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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

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The Periphery

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: This accidental behemoth is based on this post and part of the lil fic triptych with The Worst Best Man (Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader) @tropes-and-tales Team Prime (Bob Floyd x Reader)

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n. Also not beta-read. Because it never is.

Length: 11.1K

Warnings: Slowburn (i know, shocker); angst (I know, shocker); fluff; happy ending!!

Summary: You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

“Alright, what have we got, what have we gooooot…” Bradley asked, turning the steering wheel and guiding the Bronco onto the avenue.

“Let’s see,” You looked down your checklist. “Candy and labels for the favor bags?”

“Check.”

“Final payment for the florist.”

“Check.”

“Final payment for the cake.”

“Check.”

“Drop off the…Card-thingies for the seating placement at the venue.”

“Place cards?” Bradley chuckled.

“You knew what I meant. Only thing left is putting the favor bags together and we are set.”

“Hell yeah. Up top.”

You glanced over, smile widening when you spotted Bradley holding his hand up. You gave him a high five, chuckling as he crowed, “Boom! Dream team right here.”

You leaned back in your seat, shifting a little bit. Bradley was certainly the easiest person you’d had to work with over the course of this wedding—bride and groom included. You’d met him a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

“Oh—Shit,” Bradley muttered.

“What is it?” You frowned.

“No, nothing. I need to grab my tux,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Just remembered.”

“Oh,” You frowned, glancing back as he drove past the shop. “Do you wanna go now?”

“Uh…You sure?” He asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah! The rest of my day’s clear, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver,” Bradley swore, pulling his car into a parking spot. You waved him off, setting the checklist on the backseat of the car.

“Hang on,” He warned. You frowned, shaking your head, then smiled as he rounded the front of the car, opening the door for you.

“You’re such a gentleman, Bradshaw,” You teased.

“I try.”

He held the door open for you at the shop, too, and you tried not to get too flustered about it. But Bradley really was a gentleman. He’d shown you that repeatedly over the course of wedding prep, checking in periodically to see if you needed help with anything, or just to chat.

He gave his name at the desk, nodding and offering his thanks as the attendant left to get his suit.

“You get your dress yet?” He asked.

“Yep. Picked it up earlier in the week.”

“You are on it. I don’t know how you do it.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the bubble of flattery rising in your gut. “This isn’t my first wedding.”

“How many times have you been a Maid of Honor?”

“This is the…fourth time?”

“Holy hell.”

“I kinda like it,” You chuckled. “It was stressful the first time but the fourth time around, it’s sort of old hat, you know.”

“Bradshaw?” The attendant called out, waving the two of you deeper into the shop. “If you’ll follow me? We just want to make sure the alterations are all set before we send it out with you.”

You trailed after him, tucking your hands into your pockets, and grinning as he gave you a little wink before ducking into the changing room. You sat down in one of the chairs nearby, scrolling through your phone and shooting a text to Katie, the bride. You frowned as your phone began to ring, and you tapped on Katie’s name, taking the call and raising it to your ear.

“Hey, lady. How are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m okay. Are you guys done, have you gotten everything?”

You tried not to groan at the panicked edge in her voice.

“We have the stuff for the favor bags, we dropped the checks off.”

“Are you putting the bags together today?”

“Not today, but they will be done,” You leaned into the word to stave off her argument, “Before the end of the week, and dropped off to the venue on Friday.”

“Promise?”

“You have my word. Take a deep breath.”

“That Katie?” Bradley called out from behind the curtain.

“Yeah!”

“Tell her we’ll get it done!”

“I did!” You laughed before adding, “Bradley says we’ll get it done, too. ‘Kay?”

“Fine,” She sighed before belatedly tacking on, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, hon.”

“Anytime. Bye.” You lowered your phone, looking down as you heard the curtain being pushed aside. You glanced up, doing a double-take at the sight of him. Your stomach flooded with butterflies at the sight. You bit your lip, gaze sweeping him from head to toe. You’d been to fittings with a few groomsmen in your day, but Bradley looked damn good. The suit fit him like a glove. You stood from where you’d settled down, tucking your phone away and stepping closer, folding your arms across your chest to fight off the urge to reach out and touch. Luckily for you, he hadn’t caught sight of your blatant interest as you hovered in his periphery. He was too busy double-checking his buttons.

“…It fits well,” You offered.

“Yeah?” He asked, glancing back at you. You couldn’t help the way your smile widened as you nodded, allowing yourself to move a couple of steps closer.

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

“Wearing a suit feels a little weird,” He chuckled, turning to look at himself in the mirror. “But I guess it’s good practice.”

“Good practice?” You repeated, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I’m getting married next year. Actually, all of this has been good practice. You’ve been a lot more helpful than you know.”

Your smile stayed frozen in place as your neck went hot, your blood roaring in your ears. It made sense. It made so much sense, and it had no right to hurt, to twist your insides up. You nodded, and dropped your gaze to his left hand, like you could spot where the ring would sit; you wondered what kind, what metal. Engraved? Plain? Gold? Silver? Bradley struck you as the type to have a plain outer band, and an engraving inside—some secret message, or initials, or the date that they met—the date of their wedding anniversary so that he’d never forget, but Bradley wasn’t the type to forget—

“You’re sure it looks alright?”

His question jolted you, made your smile twitch a touch wider out of panic, your eyes bright, attentive, and flickering to his face. Even with your newfound knowledge, your upset, your crushing disappointment—you couldn’t help the softening of your expression at his blatant nerves.

“Yes,” You nodded. “I’m sure.”

–

It was ridiculous, right?

It was ridiculous that it formed a knot in your chest. It was ridiculous that you were so rocked by the revelation that you couldn’t sleep. You needed to do something to get your mind off of what you’d learned; off of the sight of Bradley in that tux, bright and hopeful.

He’d told you all about his fiancé on the drive back to your place. That was sort of your fault. You had asked—but it had seemed rude not to, once you knew that there was someone in the picture. Bradley had told you all about Liz: how they met (she was a friend of his WSO’s), how long they’d been together (six months), how the proposal had gone (she’d been the one to plan it—from the ring, to where he proposed, to the photographer who photographed the occasion, to the party of friends and family that they went to afterward), how the wedding planning was going.

“It’s been a bit of whirlwind, planning-wise…Actually, the whole relationship has been,” He’d shrugged. “And our schedules are nuts. We kinda keep moving the goalposts.”

“On what?”

“…Well, when it’s gonna be, for one.”

His laughing admission had planted a little seed of hope in the nest of dismayed vipers making a home in your belly, but you wouldn’t allow it to take root. It was to be expected. Like he said, their schedules were nuts. But still…

When it’s gonna be.

It rose to the top of mind now and again as you worked on the favors through the night, putting custom labels on the bottles of wine, making sure each bag had a corkscrew, and tying a strip of white ribbon around the neck of the bottle.

When it’s gonna be.

Couldn’t they just elope, if they were so worried about that? Have a proper wedding later, when things were more settled, if it was causing them so much stress? You hadn’t brought that up, of course. It wasn’t any of your business.

When it’s gonna be.

You set the final bottle in the final bag, then dropped the corkscrew inside. You’d already put on the label, and the ribbon. You sighed heavily, looking around your living room. It was crowded with nearly two hundred completed favor bags. How the hell were you going to get them down to your car? Could you even fit all of these in your car? You groaned, leaning back against the couch and scrubbing your hands over your tired eyes.

Maybe you hadn’t only done the favors to keep your mind off of Bradley. Maybe you’d done it to avoid him, too, just a little. Getting them all done yourself meant that you didn’t have to spend an extra couple of hours with him. Sure, it would’ve gone faster with two, but if you wanted this crush to end with the wedding, you needed to start distancing yourself.

It wasn’t the kindest way to deal with the circumstances—and maybe your feelings would ebb, now that you knew there was absolutely no chance of acting on them.

Still, whatever happened, you’d gotten the favors done before the end of the week, as you’d promised Katie.

–

“When should I come by? I can bring pizza or something, we’ll get those favors knocked out before the party.”

It was a sweet offer, because Bradley was a sweet guy. You planted your elbow on your desk, plaintively eyeing your work email before looking around to see if any of your coworkers were listening in.

“Actually, I took care of them,” You admitted. There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and you bit your lip, waiting for his answer.

“You—…All of them?” He finally asked.

“Mhm!” You forced the tone of your hum to be bright and chipper.

“That’s, like…That’s like two hundred bags.”

“One hundred and ninety-seven, but. Close!”

“I could’a helped you.”

You thought that he sounded disappointed, but surely you were reading into it.

“No, I know! I know. I got them done, it was no problem. I had time.”

There was another pause on the other end of the phone, and you found yourself wondering if he was distracted with whatever he was doing on the other end of the line.

“…How long did it take?” He asked.

“A bit? I don’t know. I didn’t time it. It was fine, I was awake.”

“You did them last night?”

“Yes! When else?” You laughed nervously. “Look, it’s seriously fine. They’re all set.”

“Are you alright?”

You sagged back in your office chair.

“Yeah,” You fibbed.

Another harrowing pause. Then—

“Alright.”

It sounded like a tired concession. You forced yourself to draw in a deep breath, trying to lift the anxious weight moving to settle in your chest.

“I’ll need help bringing them to the venue,” You added.

“I can do that.”

You knew he could; you hadn’t doubted his willingness to help at any turn. You tipped your head into your hand, nodding a little bit.

“Sounds good, thank you.”

“You looking forward to the party tonight?”

No, you really weren’t. In your experience, joint bachelor/bachelorette parties were either hellishly boring, or nothing but trouble.

“Yeah!” You chirped. “It’s gonna be fun!”

–

Dinner had been nice. The first couple of rounds of drinks had also been nice. Moving to a club had felt like a bad idea, but there you were nonetheless, crammed between the bar and Bradley. You were trying to focus on anything but the feeling of his body behind yours and the scent of his cologne as you waited for your drinks. This was bad. This was sort of torture. You peered around your shoulder as you heard Katie shriek in excitement, and smiling as her fiance, Cory, leaned in to give her a kiss.

“They’re sweet.”

Bradley had to get close to say it—to speak it into your ear, over the sound of the music. He rested his hand on your hip, as if he had to hold and keep your attention, as if you wouldn’t know that he was talking to you. You managed a nod, your fingers flexing against the bar. You lowered your head, stomach twisting as the bartender pushed your drinks toward you. You reached out, passing Bradley’s drink back to him before you took hold of your own.

Bradley gave your hip a squeeze, steering you back toward the group. Oh—god. You closed your eyes tightly for a second before you turned to face Bradley. You pressed your drink toward his hand, forcing him to let go of you and take hold of it, and leaned in so that he could hear you.

“I’m going to get some air! I’ll be right back.”

You turned, squeezing through fellow clubbers before he could ask or argue. You gave the bouncer a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As you slid past him. You puffed softly as the sounds of the club dropped away. The air outside was warm; the breeze pushing over you almost smelled sweet compared to the stench of sweat and booze waiting for you back inside.

Ugh, god. You didn’t want to go back inside, but you knew you couldn’t get away with going home. Most of your stuff was inside, anyway—your phone, your wallet, your bag.

“Do you have a light?”

You glanced up at the question, giving the man asking a small shake of your head.

“No, sorry.”

“Eh. I’ll find one.” The man reached into his pocket, tapping out two cigarettes. “Want one?”

“I’m good, but thank you.”

He grunted, pushing the other one back into the pack before drawing one out and tucking it between his lips. He wandered away, and you leaned back against the outside of the club.

Maybe you could slide into the booth, grab your things, say goodbye to Katie and Cory, and just dip without him noticing—

“Sure you don’t want one?”

You looked up, nerves twisting as the man leaned close against the wall beside you. You shook your head, straightening up.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” You insisted, heading for the door.

“Hey, c’mon. You could at least keep me company,” The man argued, taking hold of your wrist and tugging you back toward him. Panic trickled through your veins as you tried to yank your wrist back, hissing, “Let go of me—”

“Hey!”

You hardly caught sight of Bradley before he was shoving the man harshly against the wall.

“The fuck, dude!” The smoker spluttered, dropping your wrist as he gave Bradley’s chest a shove in return.

“She said let go, asshole,” Bradley seethed, knocking the man’s hands away. Oh, fuck. You glanced nervously toward the bouncer and the people waiting on line as they took notice of the trouble brewing. Bradley could not get into shit on the weekend of the wedding—Katie would kill you both.

“He did, he let go! He let go,” You insisted, resting your hand on Bradley’s chest. When it didn’t nudge him back, you took hold of his hand, tugging him back with all your might and hardly budging him. “Let’s go!” You gave his arm another pull, pleading, “Bradley, please.”

It took another harrowing moment of contentious staring between the two before Bradley drew away, his tight, sharp gaze still set on the other man. You gripped his hand more tightly, raising your other hand to press against his shoulder.

“Let’s go back inside,” You urged. “Come on.”

It took another couple of pulls before Bradley acquiesced, trailing you back toward the bouncer. He hesitated at the door, eyes still set on the man before he allowed you to pull him in.

“Are you alright?” Were the first words out of his mouth.

“Are you crazy?” Were yours as you ripped your hand away from his. “What the hell were you thinking!”

Bradley looked stricken, brow knitting together.

“The hell did you expect me to do? He was all over you!”

“Why did you even follow me outside?”

“You practically ran out here, I thought something was wrong—and then I got out there and it was worse than I thought.”

You sighed heavily, turning away and shaking your head.

“Let’s just…Can we go back to the others?” You mumbled, turning from him. You heard him fall into step a couple of paces behind you, seeming to keep a measured distance as you made your way back to the rest of the wedding party. Once there, you embedded yourself deep into the corner with the bride and the other bridesmaids, forcing your smile wide and avoiding Bradley for the rest of the night.

–

It had been terrifying, having someone grab you—but the speed with which Bradley had come to your rescue was…Sort of hot? Sure, you could’ve gotten out of it yourself, but he hadn’t even hesitated. He’d gotten right up in that guy’s face—for you. You were certain that he would’ve done it for any of the other bridesmaids…Though you weren’t sure if he would’ve followed them outside…

No, he would’ve. Surely he would’ve. He was a good guy, it seemed like something he would do—

“Hey.”

He was nice, and sweet, and…Really, really attractive, god. The look on his face, the cords of his neck straining as he’d shoved the man, as he’d hissed, She said let go, asshole—

“Hey!”

You jumped at the feeling of Katie flicking the side of your head. The backseat of the uber was a tight squeeze with you, Karie, and Cory. You turned from looking out through the car window, smiling when you saw her watching you. Cozied into Cory’s side, she was peering at you with hazy blue eyes; her copper hair seemed dull under the glow of passing streetlights; her bride sash hung limply around her middle.

“What?” You chuckled.

“What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re being all…” She waved a finger at you. “You’re being weird. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“I heard Bradley tell Cory that someone grabbed you.”

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you forced your expression to a neutral set.

“It was some drunk guy outside of the club,” You excused. “No big deal, you know. Nothing I’ve never dealt with.”

“You were all weird when you came back, too. All quiet.”

“It was loud in there, and I didn’t have much to say. I was vibing.”

Katie’s eyes narrowed slightly, and you could feel her winding up for a question before she was distracted by the sound of Cory snoring behind her. You grinned as she shifted beside him, elbowing in the side with a hiss of, “Babe! Don’t snore, you’re gonna kill my uber rating!”

–

Loading the favor bags into Bradley’s Bronco was done in awkward silence. Neither of you said much, apart from, “Here,” and, “Thanks,” and, “I can grab that one.” Despite how carefully they were cushioned as you put them into the car, you found yourself looking into the backseat every few moments as you heard the bottles rattling from some bump in the road. You glanced at Bradley as you turned to look through the windshield again. You weren’t hungover, but you did have a growing headache.

“…Sorry I got snippy last night.”

It sort of pained you to say it, but you’d been repeating it in your head for the last two hours. You had to work your way up to saying it. You’d played with the phrasing, the tone, the pace, and it still felt stupid as it came out of your mouth. Before Bradley could say anything, you added, “I know you were just trying to help and I shouldn’t have freaked out at you like that.”

Bradley still didn’t respond, and it took everything in your power to not turn and look at him, to see if he was even listening, or if he was rolling his eyes. But after a moment, he offered, “S’alright. I may’ve overreacted a little.”

“…I thought you were gonna slug the guy.” You were trying to tease him, but Bradley didn’t even miss a beat:

“I thought I was, too.”

You turned to look at him then, stunned. Bradley kept his focus on the road, his jaw clenched, his gaze unreadable behind his sunglasses. You swallowed thickly, looking into the backseat again as the bottles rattled.

“Would you stop fussin’ over those?” He groaned. “They’re fine.”

“They better be. We don’t have any extras if they break.”

“Want me to slow the car to fifteen miles an hour?”

You could see him starting to smile in your periphery. Your stupid, crush-blind giddiness welled, feeling the tension in the car begin to break down.

“No…” You twisted back around in your seat, slumping petulantly. “Twenty will be fine.”

Bradley turned to look at you as the car came to a stop at a red light, gazing at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Twenty-three, final offer.”

“Sold.”

Bradley’s smile made your stomach flip, and you both turned to look through the windshield again as the light turned green.

–

The wedding was perfect. The reception was painful.

Liz seemed lovely, and for as kind as you were trying to be, your attempts were made even more difficult by your wealth of feeling for Bradley, and the adoring way that he curled his arm around her shoulders, pressed a kiss to her cheek, her lips, her temple; the way he offered to get her a drink, or something to eat; the way his hand slid automatically to her hip, or her lower back; the way he hung on her every word.

You didn’t belabor it. When you spotted the two of them dancing together, her body cradled safely against his, you furiously pushed away your feelings of inadequacy and upset away in favor of looking at Katie and Cory. You relaxed at the sight of them—at the love in their eyes, the sureness there.

It reminded you that loving someone wasn’t supposed to hurt. So whatever it was that you felt for Bradley could be left behind, in that room. You needed it to be.

–

“You missed the bouquet toss.”

The sound of his voice made you shiver a little. Aw, hell. You’d only just managed to center yourself. Looking out over the moonlit ocean had calmed you, somewhat. But maybe whatever feelings you had for Bradley could be left…On the venue’s patio? But you glanced back, leaning against the railing and eyeing Bradley as he came closer.

“I’m alright with that. The last time I was in the middle of one of those, I almost got socked in the face.”

“Yeesh,” Bradley muttered.

“Yeah, bouquet tosses are no joke.”

He rested his arms against the wide railing beside you, looking out over the water. The two of you stood in calm silence for a while.

“So when’s your next Maid of Honor gig?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Hopefully not for a while. I think I need a break from the wedding circuit.”

“You say circuit or circus?”

“Bit of column A, bit of column B.”

Bradley chuckled.

“Well, whenever it is, if you need a hand, you let me know.”

“Even if you’re not involved in the wedding?”

“Sure. This was honestly kinda fun. And it’s ‘cause I did it with you.”

The butterflies in your chest whirled restlessly as you felt Bradley look at you. You forced yourself to laugh, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t foist wedding duties on you if you weren’t part of the wedding, Bradley. That would be mean. I appreciate the offer, though.”

“…Could I pick your brain about wedding stuff, sometime?” He hedged. “You know, as Liz and I get closer to ours?”

You could say no. You could remind him of what you said, of the fact that you were getting off of the wedding circuit once this wedding was up. You could stick to your conviction that as the necessity for your proximity passed, you’d keep your distance from him—

“Of course you can,” You nodded, turning to look at him. His sweet smile and the full weight of his gaze and focus were enough to crack you in two.

“Dream team?” He asked, holding his hand up for a high five. You nodded, giving him a quick high five before you curled your arms around yourself.

“Dream team.”

–

It had been a mistake to reopen the lines of communication. You’d made the decision while tipsy, sending him an innocent, innocuous message. You hadn’t even expected a response—but he’d gotten back to you within minutes. You could’ve cut the communication dead there, but you’d found yourself grappling for connection, for the feeling of being wanted. You knew you’d get it from your ex, for better or for worse, and you needed something to drown the rotting buds of affection that you still felt blooming for Bradley.

You hadn’t seen Bradley since the wedding, but the two of you had kept in touch. When he’d started calling you, most of the conversation had been around his wedding prep, but it hadn’t stayed that way. The two of you always managed to get off-topic—to ask and talk about one another’s lives, your days, your work. After the first couple of months, he seemed to drop the wedding chat entirely, just calling to talk. When you did try to steer it back in that direction—to a venue, or a time of year, or flowers—he managed to talk his way out of it. And you could’ve pried, but you let him avoid the topic. You were happy not to hear about Liz. Whenever your phone buzzed and his name appeared, your heart made a sharp leap from your chest to your throat. You craved the sound of his voice, missed the sight of his smile, reveled in his teasing and laughter.

So sure, starting a conversation with your ex, Ryan, had been sort of stupid. But it felt smarter than allowing your crush for an engaged man to completely cloud your judgement.

–

“Are you going to Cory and Katie’s for brunch this weekend?”

“Is that this weekend?” You groaned, tipping your head back. “Fuck, I forgot.”

“I thought you would’ve been on top of that! You were so on top of things for the wedding.”

“Well, that was different. That was way more involved.”

“Hey, brunch can be pretty damn involved.”

“You speaking from experience, Bradshaw?”

“I have faced some terrifying situations, but the worst of which was a bottomless brunch when they ran out of prosecco.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting in your office chair and stifling a snort.

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“So am I gonna see you?”

Am I gonna see you.

Not are we going to see you—because presumably Liz would be there, too. A few months ago, Bradley had mentioned wanting to bring her more into the fold, into his group of friends. Most of his friends knew Cory and Katie; most of them would probably be at brunch.

“Uh…” You eyed your calendar. “Maybe?”

“You too busy for me now?”

“For you?” You scoffed a laugh. “This isn’t your brunch, mister.”

“No, I know. That’s not what I mean, it just…”

Bradley trailed off on the other end of the phone, and you frowned, shaking your head.

“‘It just’, what?”

“It’s been a while since the wedding. It’d be nice to see you.”

“It’d be nice to see you, too.” The admission felt dangerous, but it was too late to draw back in—and it was mutual. You wouldn’t have dared say it to him if he hadn’t said it first.

“So come by,” He urged. “At least for a bit.”

–

For a bit. You could make it a short stop.

“We’ll be fast,” You swore. “Like, a hello and a bellini and then we are out of there.”

“Why are we going if you don’t even want to stay long?”

It was a valid question, but it made you bristle a bit. It was clear that Ryan wasn’t excited to go. Well, he’d never gotten along with your friends, anyway. He’d had a feeling that they didn’t like him—and he had been right. You hadn’t told anyone that the two of you were seeing one another again, and maybe it was unfair to ambush them like this, but you didn’t think you could be around Bradley and Liz—around their cooing and teasing and sweetness—without something or someone to distract you from the reality of the situation.

“You want me to drop you off somewhere?” You asked. “I can. I can drop you off and pick you up when I’m done.”

“I’m only meant—”

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to go.”

“I never said I didn’t wanna go.”

“You’re acting like it.”

“You’re the one saying we don’t have to say long!” He scoffed. “Can we park and get in there?”

You puffed your cheeks out and pushed out a breath, shaking your head a little bit. This was a bad idea. Maybe you should turn around and head home—

But your heart leapt at the sight of Bradley’s Bronco parked a few cars back from Katie and Cory’s, and you knew you wouldn’t turn around.

Quick in, quick out. One bellini, maybe half of a bagel, a warning that you had other plans and couldn’t stick around long. Ask Katie how the honeymoon was, tell Cory to call you when they needed to plan the baby shower, maybe high five Bradley, and then you’d dip.

“We always hang out with my friends,” Ryan grumbled as you parked.

“Why is that even something you’d complain about?”

“Because you hide me from yours.”

You put the car in park, stomach churning guiltily as you met his eye.

“You don’t like my friends,” You reminded him.

“I’m willing to try, but they need to be, too.”

“…Okay,” You nodded. “I’ll talk to them about it. Not now, but like. I’ll talk to them about it.”

“Thank you.”

You sighed softly, reaching out and taking his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Ryan tipped his head back against the rest, slightly mussing his ash blond hair. “I don’t get why you’re so freaked about this brunch thing. It’s, like. Supposed to be chill, right?”

“It is. It is, it’s gonna be a lot of people, their apartment is pretty small. You know how I get when it’s loud and crowded, and…Overloads me.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, glancing toward the building.

“Let’s get you in and out, then,” He offered. “And then we can get me in and out.” He waggled his brows, and you huffed, drawing your hand out of his and getting out of the car.

Ryan took hold of your hand again once the two of you were on the sidewalk, trailing you as you led him to the door of the apartment building. You could hear music and chatter coming from Katie and Cory’s. You drew in a deep breath before you raised your hand, knocking on the door. It was a moment before it opened, and as soon as it did, your heart stuttered in your chest.

Your attraction to Bradley had never faded like it was supposed to. You had worked at it. You’d reminded yourself of the pros and cons, beaten yourself over the head with the fact that he was with someone, in a committed relationship. You had pushed yourself back into Ryan’s arms because, for a time, you had felt wanted by him. Things had never been perfect between you. You butted heads, and you tended to not want to budge on your arguments. You were quick to anger with one another, with each little nitpick reopening the old wounds. Your relationship had been on-again off-again for a couple of years, with each period of on-again falling into the same patterns that had led to the two of you splitting up in the first place.

This latest stint with Ryan had only been exacerbated by your frequent conversations with and interest in another man. Every conversation, every touch, hold, kiss, conversation, had been haunted with the idea of Bradley lingering in your periphery.

“Hey!” Bradley grinned. He reached out, drawing you in without a second’s thought or hesitation.

You leaned into him, curling your arm around his middle and patting his back. You held for as long as was appropriate, and not nearly as long as you’d like; the scent of him threatened to draw you back in. You would’ve embraced him fully if Ryan wasn’t still holding your other hand.

“I can’t believe you made it—Katie literally just told me there was no way you were showing up,” He added, leaning back to get a better look at you.

“Yeah, well,” You smiled weakly. “We can’t stay too long, but we wanted to drop in and see everyone.”

Your repeated use of we seemed to jolt Bradley. His gaze dropped to your other hand, then swept up Ryan’s arm to take in his face.

“Bradley, this is Ryan,” You added, stepping back to allow Ryan to come into the apartment fully. “Ryan, Bradley. Bradley was the Best Man at Katie and Cory’s wedding.”

“Aw, yeah, I’ve seen pictures from the day-of,” Ryan held his hand out, giving Bradley’s a shake. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Bradley nodded.

“Where’s Liz!” You tacked on, glancing around. A look that you didn’t recognize flashed across Bradley’s face, but it was gone in a blink.

“Ah, she, uh…She couldn’t make it.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” You frowned—and you tried to mean it.

“It’s alright. Come on, come in,” Bradley added, waving you inside. “Sorry, I shouldn’t stall you guys in the doorway.”

“It’s okay,” You laughed, looking around before glancing back at Ryan. “Let’s see if we can go find the newlyweds.” You glanced up at Bradley, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’ll see you around.”

It felt wrong to say—it felt worse when you saw Bradley’s expression falter a touch. But you were already turning away from him and heading for a group of a few of your friends. You saw the flash of their horror and confusion before they pushed smiles onto their faces, squealing, “Hey!” as a group.

“Hi!” You smiled back, giving Ryan’s hand a reassuring squeeze. You leaned into each of them, kissing their cheeks before leaning back. Katie hardly leaned into you; her gaze was still set on your ex.

“Y’all remember Ryan,” You asked, waving back toward him. It garnered nods and murmurs of agreement.

“Nice to see you,” He offered before he leaned in a little. “I’m going to go grab a drink. You want one?”

“Sure,” You nodded, “Thanks.”

Before you could blink, Ryan ducked in, pressing his lips to yours in a quick, warm kiss. He didn’t overdo it, or make it pointedly salacious for the sake of your friends, like he may have in the past. Now, he gave your lower back a pat and turned, heading away from you, and leaving your little group in a pointed silence. You didn’t meet any of their eyes. You stared at Katie’s glass and warned them:

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

It forced them off of the topic, and onto a new subject: Katie and Cory’s honeymoon in Ibiza. You found yourself half-listening; the other ear was unwittingly searching out the sound of Bradley’s voice in your periphery. You caught on it now and again for a syllable or two, and your head would twitch in his direction. It was impossible for you not to. As badly as you wanted to go to him—to soak up his smiles and his warm, kind eyes—you rooted yourself with your friends, averting your gaze from their nervous and judgemental glances.

But when the conversation shifted again—when your ear caught on Ella’s comment of, “—A shame about Bradley and Liz, isn’t it?” Your head snapped to them.

“I know,” Katie sighed, shaking her head, “He’s such a good guy.”

“What happened?” You frowned, shaking your head. The others glanced around conspiratorially before they leaned in a little more.

“Apparently,” Katie leaned into it, “He and Liz, like…Imploded. She said it was taking them too long to get the wedding together, he said that it would take as long as they needed—”

“Neither of them would budge,” Ella shrugged. “Apparently she eloped with some guy she met, like, the week after they split.”

“Oh, my god,” You breathed. The news twisted you all up; you didn’t know how it was possible that someone could do that to Bradley.

“Honestly, I don’t think she really even wanted to be married to him,” Cassie offered. “I think she just wanted to be married.”

You found yourself twisting around to try and catch sight of Bradley then—like you could see some visible sign of the change, the distress; like the ring you’d come to imagine sitting on his finger had disappeared.

And then Ryan rested a hand on your lower back and pressed a bellini into your hand, and it was like a bucket of ice water had been tipped over your head.

Bradley hadn’t said a thing to you. You had been asking about Liz for months. You had questioned their plans: their honeymoon arrangements, their colors, their venue options; you’d offered to get him in touch with coordinators, with florists, and DJs and caterers and bakers and goddamnit, why hadn’t he told you?

Why hadn’t he at least feigned that the wedding was on hold? That they were regrouping, or restrategizing, or asked you to change the topic, or to just shut the hell up about it? Had he not wanted you to know? Was it a matter of his loss, his pride?

Finally catching sight of him across the room, you found him with a gaggle of guys. He had a glass in his hand, and a smile on his face as he laughed—the kind that made his eyes crinkle, and his chin tip up with the force of it. You saw his head turn toward you a touch, and you hurriedly averted your gaze, raising your glass to your lips and taking a deep draw from your glass. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. The alcohol seemed to burn and bubble as it dropped into your belly.

“Hon, are you okay?” Ella asked, frowning at you. “You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

“Uh…No, you know what, I actually, um,” You cleared your throat. “I’m not feeling well. I think we should get going, actually, we’ve got some other things that we need to, um…” You cleared your throat, glancing back toward Ryan. He looked as confused as your friends. Maybe he figured the two of you would stay for more than five minutes. You were a flurry of apology as you pecked their cheeks, grabbing Ryan’s hand and half-dragging him out of the apartment.

“They say something about me?” He asked tiredly as the two of you left.

“No,” You shook your head, climbing into the car. “No, it really—I really do feel like shit right now.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest; the blood was roaring in your ears; your head was spinning. You stuck the key into the ignition before you leaned back to put your seatbelt on, drawing in a deep breath as you tried to calm yourself down.

“If you feel so shitty, you probably shouldn’t be driving,” Ryan grumbled.

“I can handle it.”

“You could’ve at least waited for me to get something to eat—”

“Oh my god,” You groaned. “Maybe you should’ve grabbed a bagel while you were already in the kitchen, then.”

“You said you wanted a drink.”

“You offered to get me one!”

You turned to the car, turning the key in the ignition before glancing at Ryan, doing a double take and waving at his chest.

“…What?” He asked.

“Would you put your fricking seatbelt on, please?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!” You insisted. “God forbid something happen, I don’t want you flying through the fucking windshield—”

“You know what?” Ryan reached out, opening the door. “I’m gonna walk.”

“You’re gonna walk?” You scoffed. “You’re really gonna fucking—”

You winced as he slammed the door shut. You shook your head, glancing into the rear view. Fucking fine. If he wanted to walk, he could fucking walk. You glanced to the side mirrors and checked your blindspot before flooring it out of the spot and peeling down the block. You glanced down as you heard your phone buzz, certain you would have a text from Ryan, asking you to pick him up at the corner.

Instead, you spotted Bradley’s name. You found yourself pitching your phone into the passenger side footwell on instinct as you turned back to the road.

He hadn’t even thought about pulling you in when he saw you. He’d drawn you into his arms, completely disregarding Ryan—so much so that he seemed surprised when you pointed Ryan out. He’d acted like you were the only person there.

You pressed your elbow against the door, resting your head on your head.

Six months. You had been asking Bradley (or trying to ask Bradley) about the wedding for the last six months. He had played along. You felt stupid, embarrassed.

And goddamnit, you felt hopeful.

–

When you finally got home and retrieved your phone from the car footwell, you had three texts and five missed calls.

Three of the missed calls were from Ryan, as well as one of the texts—a request to sit down and hash out whatever the hell happened at the party. Another was from Katie (Bitch, you got a lot of explaining to do with a gif of Ricky Ricardo waggling his finger). You saw the missed calls and texts from Bradley last:

BB (#DreamTeam)

Sorry I missed you on your way out

As if it was his fault.

Well, then again, it sort of was.

You eyed the last time he called; it had been a few minutes ago. You huffed softly, considering your options. You shot a text over to Ryan agreeing to meet first. You knew that delaying your response in favor of calling Bradley would send your guilt through the roof. Then, you hesitantly tapped on Bradley’s name, putting the phone on speaker. You glanced around, sighing and leaning back in the driver’s seat as the ringtone brrrr’d in the absence of his response. It was one ring away from going voicemail when you heard him pick up.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hey. Sorry, I was driving, I didn’t, uh—I didn’t see that you called.”

“That’s okay.”

You nodded a little before you paused, brows raising a touch.

“So what’s up?” You finally pressed.

“Seemed like you left in a hurry. I turned around and you were just gone.”

“Something came up.”

“Katie said you weren’t feeling well.”

Snitch.

“I wasn’t.”

“Feeling better now?” Bradley pried, and before you could even think of your answer, “Wanna go grab a drink, or…Dinner, something?”

You tipped your head back against the rest, closing your eyes. No. No. That was an awful idea. You needed to get together with Ryan as soon as possible, to get your shit together, to work out whatever you needed to work out—

–

“You been here before?” You asked.

“Uh—”

“Hey, Rooster!”

Your brows raised as he raised a hand, waving at a woman not too far off. He turned a bashful smile toward you as he lowered his hand, folding his arms on the bar.

“It’s near the base, so it’s pretty popular with people in the service.”

“It’s nice in here,” You nodded, looking around.

“Nicer than Katie’s?”

He didn’t bother trying to be subtle, leaning into the question. You slowly turned to face forward again, casting the bartender a smile and a thanks as she set your drinks down. Bradley waited until she drifted away before he added,

“You ran out of there like you were on fire.”

“Thought you turned around I was just gone,” You reminded him, raising your brows. Bradley’s eyes skated across your face.

“Saw you out of the corner of my eye,” He admitted.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“I’ve seen you ditch out of somewhere before.”

You turned from him, taking up your beer.

“You need someone to sock that guy, I’m your first call,” Bradley added, and you couldn’t help but smile ruefully as you shook your head.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“Katie said he doesn’t treat you right.”

“The way Liz treated you?”

It fell out of your mouth before you can stop it. You watched Bradley’s expression harden, his jaw clenching as his fingers flexed around the bottle in front of him. He didn’t hold your gaze. As bad as you felt for mentioning it, you couldn’t have it over your head anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You plied when he gave no answer. “I asked about that shit for months, like a fricking idiot.”

“You weren’t an idiot. You didn’t know.”

“Exactly my point! Why didn’t you at least pretend you had postponed it or something?”

“I didn’t wanna talk about it. I still don’t.”

“Then why’d you invite me out?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about that, not that I didn’t want to talk at all.”

You both turned back to your drinks, gaze set contentiously on them.

“…I take it Katie told you about Ryan?” You hedged.

“A bit, yeah.”

“What’d she say?”

“That he’s a dick who won’t compromise.”

“Yeah, well,” You shifted on your bar stool. “I don’t exactly have a gold medal in that, either when it comes to him.”

“Just him?”

You considered for a moment, tipping your chin up and eyeing the opposite wall.

“We butt heads, we always have. It always starts out pretty well, and then…I don’t know. Little things start to break down, little communication errors or fights and they get bigger and bigger, and,” You raised a hand, mimicking an explosion. “He was peeved when we went to Katie’s, thought I pulled him out of there because they said something to me about him. I mean, they would’ve, probably. And they clearly said something to you.”

“She said she had no idea how you even linked back up.”

“I texted him a kitty picture.”

You saw Bradley frown out of the corner of your eye, his mouth working wordlessly as he seemed to grapple with something. It clicked, and you groaned, “No, an actual cat, you—” You reached out, giving his shoulder a light shove as the two of you dissolved into laughter, “You perv.”

–

You don’t let Bradley right back in, and you don’t show Ryan right out, either. Where your friendship with Bradley had been middling, your reopened channels of communication were slowly bringing it back to life. Where your relationship with Ryan had been waning, you gave it another shot in earnest.

–

“So when do I get to meet him?” Bradley asked.

“You already met him,” You chuckled.

“Not properly. I didn’t get a chance to really talk to him.”

“You want to?”

Bradley leaned back in his seat a little. You could feel his gaze sweeping you, even as you poked at your dinner.

“You don’t want me to?” He batted back. You shrugged.

“I have no problem with it. Kinda surprised, considering what Katie’s told you about him.”

“I like to draw my own conclusions. ‘Sides, if you’re with him, he can’t be all that bad.”

“Your opinion of me is way too high, Bradshaw.”

“Your opinion of yourself isn’t high enough.”

Your stomach flipped at his insistence, and you raised your drink to swallow your arguments.

“Gonna have to meet him soon,” He added.

“Why’s that?”

“I’m goin’ away.”

He said it so casually, so easily, like it wouldn’t hit you below the belt and ruin your appetite. You carefully lowered your glass back to the table.

“When?” You asked as lightly as you could manage.

“Next week.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“At least a couple of months.”

You nodded a little, belly squirming with nerves. It was a wholly irrational response. You knew very well what Bradley did. You just hadn’t come into contact with the reality of it before.

“So?” He leaned against the table. “When can I meet him?”

“…I don’t know, I don’t…” You shook your head. “I don’t know when he’s, um…” Your brain was scrambled all of the sudden. It was like it was being overtaken with the knowledge of Bradley’s leaving, the possibilities. “I’ll ask.”

“I’ll pencil it in.”

“Am I gonna see you before I leave?”

“With Ryan?”

“I mean if he can’t make it.”

You give Bradley a guarded gaze from beneath your eyelids, smiling as you see him nodding.

��Course you’re gonna. Dream team, remember?”

–

“Think your guy can pencil me in for when I’m back?”

You grimaced at his question. Bradley had been gone for almost a month, and asking that question for nearly just as long. Your phone time had only increased with his being so far away; you got a call from him every other day, if not every day. You shifted on your couch, eyeing your tv boredly.

“Be kinda weird for you to hang out with a guy I’m not with anymore, but yeah, I’m sure we could work something out.”

There was a moment of quiet on the other end of the phone before he asked, “When’d that happen?“

"Yesterday.”

“And what happened there?”

“We were not, uh…” You shook your head. “Ultimately, we weren’t compatible. I think that’s the nice way to say it.”

“What’s the mean way?”

“He’s a fucking dumbass.”

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Sure. Anyone who can’t make it work with you—there’s gotta be something wrong with ‘em.”

You tipped your head back against your couch, your feet kicking with childish excitement. Ugh, goddamnit, he always seemed to know the right thing to say.

“Anyway,” You pushed on as you settled back down. “I can still set you up with Ryan.”

“No thank you.”

“Gee, why not?”

“He’s not really my type. Sounds like he’d be Liz’s, though.”

You smiled a little ruefully, hand scrubbing over the side of your neck. It had taken some time, but Bradley had finally opened up to you about what had gone wrong. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault, he’d sworn. It was just that they were in different places, ready (or not ready) for different things. He’d gradually gone from not giving a damn what she’d gotten up to without him to wishing her well. You couldn’t imagine feeling the same good will toward Ryan.

“Doesn’t seem like she needs a fix up,” You quipped.

“She certainly does not.”

“Mm. How’s it going over there?”

“It’s been alright. Tiring,” Bradley admitted. “We’ve moved on to parameter-specific runs, and it’s, uh…It’s gonna be a hard one.”

You bit your lip. You weren’t sure what to say that he surely hadn’t heard a hundred times before. Tell him that he would be fine? Beg him to come home safely?

You hadn’t been able to spend time alone with Bradley before he’d left. Katie had wound up having a small dinner at her place—something for friends, something more casual. You couldn’t bring yourself to selfishly break off another bit of his time, and you’d soaked up all of him that you could while you were there. When the party had ended, you’d trailed him back to the Bronco. Your conversation had gone on and on outside of it, and then inside when you couldn’t bring yourself to stand still. Even then, practically facing one another in the front seat of his car, you’d found yourself feeling antsy. You’d wanted to tell him something beyond the fact that you would miss him. You wanted to tell him that you were worried about him; you wanted to somehow let him know that the news of his sudden departure had kept you up for the better part of a week; you wanted to know if he would be thinking of you, too; you wanted to reach out and touch—his hand, his arm, his cheek, something.

But you’d kept to your side of the car, bottled your protests and worries, and resolutely tried to ignore the way your heart leapt in your throat whenever his knee nearly brushed yours.

Now, the clarity of distance told you that you’d done the right thing. Laying some confession of interest or a kiss on him would’ve clouded the lines of communication that you had open now—lines that you weren’t willing to jeopardize.

“You’ll get it,” You finally said, “Whatever it is.”

“I’d tell you more, but—”

“No, that’s alright. I think that would just make me more worried, anyway.”

“You worry about me?”

Crap. You slid down in your seat, pressing your head back against the cushion.

“Course I do,” You admitted quietly, as if he could lose the sound of you over the phone—as if your mumbled confirmation wouldn’t be chased or leaned into.

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, well, thank you for that absolution. I was only worrying for fun.”

“C’mon,” Bradley chuckled softly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” You grumbled.

“It’s nice.”

“It’s nice? You enjoy making me worry? That’s just cruel, Bradshaw.”

“Swear to god, when I get back, I’m gonna—”

“What?” You goaded, heart ticking up in your chest. “What are you gonna do?”

Maybe it was a step too far. Bradley went quiet on the other end of the phone. Your mouth went dry as you waited with nervous anticipation. And then you registered the yell of someone on the other end of the phone, the use of his callsign.

“Shit,” He muttered, then, louder: “I gotta go.”

“Okay,” You nodded. It was better that he couldn’t see the nod, or the way panic washed across your face. “Be careful.”

He didn’t need to be told that, but you couldn’t help the plea.

“I will,” He swore. And then he was gone. You lowered your phone, watching as BB (#DreamTeam) flickered away, leaving your lock screen. Gonna what? What the hell was he gonna do when he got back?

Then again, you weren’t sure you cared what it was, so long as he did get back.

–

“Did I wake you up?”

“No!” You leaned over, turning your lamp on and pushing yourself to sit up, your phone clutched in your hand. You knew that the first thing you’d said to him, your groggy little opening gambit of, “Whazzit?” had probably given the game away, but hell, he’d asked.

You’d hardly heard from Bradley for the last few weeks. You hadn’t reached out. You hadn’t wanted to bother or distract him from his task. But on the late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you found yourself wondering if Bradley hadn’t contacted you because he couldn’t—because something had gone wrong. You’d found yourself constantly checking your phone, keeping it on the edge of your periphery on the off-chance he called or texted.

“You lying to me?” He added. At least he sounded a little amused by the prospect. You scrubbed your hand across your eyes. Damnit.

“…A little bit,” You mumbled.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Nooo,” You whined, kicking your feet petulantly beneath your sheets. “Talk to me.”

“You laying down?”

“…I was.”

“Lay back down.”

The order felt a little salacious, but you were sure he meant nothing by it. Still, you slid down as he said, tipping your sleep-heavy head back against the pillows.

“Talk to me,” You urged again. “Please?”

“You should’ve let me go to voicemail.”

“I said talk, not argue.”

“Now who’s arguing?”

You smiled, letting your eyes close.

“‘M not arguing. Making a point isn’t arguing.”

“It is when you use that tone.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

His reassurance made you melt into the mattress a little more.

“Good,” You mumbled. “I was afraid you weren’t.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Now you’re arguing again,” He chuckled. “You always this combative when you wake up?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“…Yeah, I would.”

For a moment, you were certain you imagined him saying it, or that you’d managed to mishear him in his hazy state.

“You could, you know,” You finally offered.

“Oh yeah? How would I do that?”

His voice was different than you were used to—low and soothing, and curled with a wink that you longed to see.

“How do you think?”

“Could always call you in the middle of the night again.”

You pushed a sleepy, ugly giggle, then slapped your hand over your mouth when you realized that the sound escaped you. Bradley laughed quietly on the other end.

“If that’s the route you wanna go, Bradshaw.”

“I am sorry,” He added. “I forgot what time it was over there.”

“S’okay, I don’t mind. I missed your voice.”

God, being tired made you far more loose-lipped than you typically were. You were already penciling in a reminder to be mortified about this conversation in the morning. But it was chased and erased by Bradley’s gentle,

“I missed yours, too.”

Your stomach squirmed at the sentiment, a goofy smile spreading across your face.

“Even when it sounds like I’ve been gargling gravel?” You teased.

“You don’t sound like that.”

It took you a few moments to answer. As badly as you wanted to stay awake, you could feel sleep sinking its claws into you, drawing you back down.

“No? Feels like I do.”

“You don’t. You might if you stay up talking to me, though.”

“Worth it,” You insisted. You didn’t know if he took longer to answer, or if it took longer to register with you. But his voice finally worked through:

“Go back to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Mmmkay,” You finally relented. “Get home safe, please.”

“I will.”

–

In the morning, you were far less embarrassed than you thought you would be. Sure, there were still things that you sort of wish that you hadn’t said, but they were clouded out by other things—like the way Bradley had reassured you that you didn’t sound like hell, and the fact that he’d missed your voice in the first place.

Still, all of those things were stomped out by one thing that you were almost certain had been a figment of your sleep-addled mind, something that you wanted desperately to be real, but would never bring yourself to ask Bradley about—

The sound of his warm, tender little murmur right before you’d drifted off entirely:

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You spent the morning stewing over whether or not you’d really heard Bradley say that, or if you’d conjured it up. Maybe it was something that you simply wanted so badly that you had imagined it.

Your eyes kept darting to your phone during work, your heart leaping into your throat every time the screen lit up. It was usually some app alert. Every time you perked up at the sight of it only to be let down, you felt silly. It was another entire day of ebbing excitement and rising disappointment, raising your hopes for absolutely nothing. By the time you left your office, you’d exhausted yourself. You were being ridiculous. Sure, he’d said he’d see you soon, but that was probably relative to—

“Did you manage to fall back asleep? Or did you stop talking because you were bored with me?”

Your eyes widened, your mouth falling open at the sight of him outside your office building. You didn’t even think as you darted toward him, barrelling into him. Bradley took hold of you as though you hadn’t run into him with any force. He held firm, curling his arms around your shoulders as you clung to him. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes. He smoothed his hand over your back as you grappled with it all—the feel of him; the scent of his cologne and aftershave; the fact that you could see him, touch him, prove to yourself that he was okay.

When you finally managed to talk yourself into loosening your grasp, you drew back a little, your bashful embarrassment bubbling up and trying to overtake the joy that you felt. Bradley simply smiled, cupping your cheek in a way that made your heart sing.

“Hi there,” He murmured.

“Hi,” You laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking.”

“S’alright,” He shook his head. “I’m not complaining.”

“When you said you’d see me soon, I didn’t think you meant so soon.”

“I know. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, mission accomplished.”

His thumb swept gently over the apple of your cheek, his smile pulling wide to match yours.

“When did you get back?” You asked.

“Couple of hours ago.”

And he was there, with you? Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“A little.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“What do you want?”

Bradley’s tongue swept across his lips, his eyes skimming your face for a moment. Then, seeming to rethink something, he shrugged.

“Whatever you’ve got.”

–

Technically you didn’t have much, but Bradley didn’t gripe about ordering in pizza. Hell, when you suggested it, he let out a groan that rattled right through you before emphatically agreeing:

“Fuck yes. Please.”

The way he said it stuck with you for entirely the wrong reason, and you found yourself almost studiously perusing a delivery app for the best option to keep him from clocking your aroused embarrassment. You didn’t have a dining room table, so the two of you wound up eating side by side, close, with some nonsense tv show that neither of you were really paying attention to playing in the background. When you asked about how it had gone, as delicately as possible, he shrugged.

“I won’t pretend it was the worst mission I’ve ever flown,” He said. “But I’m going to pretend that it was the best, either.”

He didn’t go into specifics, but that was alright. You still weren’t quite certain that you wanted him to. The less you knew, the better. Besides, it didn’t matter, anyway. He was there, safe, with you.

“Well,” You leaned back, on your couch, dusting the crumbs off of your fingers. “I’m glad it worked out.” “Mm,” He nodded, pushing his plate away before he looked around. You raised your brows as he lowered his hand to the cushions, giving them a squeeze.

“So,” He smiled, “This where you usually call me from?”

“Usually.”

“Even last night?”

“Last night was a bit of an exception. I think we both know that.”

“Where were you?”

You nodded toward the hall. “My room. That’s where I gargle gravel.”

“I told you you didn’t sound bad,” Bradley laughed.

“Yeah, you did, and I still don’t believe you.”

Bradley shook his head a little. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hand sliding across the cushion, a little closer to you.

“You sounded good,” He insisted.

“Good might be stretching it.”

“Good’s the tip of the iceberg.”

Your tummy fluttered at the feeling of his fingertips tenderly skating over the back of your hand. Your fingers wriggled, like it would entice him to touch you more—like if you didn’t move, didn’t react, he’d pull away or stop. Bradley lowered his gaze to your hands, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt him gently turn yours, his calloused fingertips skating across your palm.

“…Bradley?”

“Mhm?”

“This may be an incredibly dumb question—”

“Doubt it.”

“Wh—” You laughed nervously before you could finish the question. “Why did you…I mean, you just got back. Why’d you come see me?”

“Because I missed you.” He took hold of your hand, his thumb sweeping along the side. “I needed to see you.”

The word makes your pulse quicken, and you blink a few times to try and clear your swimming head.

“…Needed?” You repeated dazedly. Bradley nodded, lifting his head to meet your eye.

“Needed, sweetheart.”

The way he said it was so soft, and warm, and so perfectly familiar that you could’ve cried. But Bradley was already cradling your cheek, already drawing you close and leaning in to meet you halfway. You raised your other hand, cupping the side of his neck as your lips met for the first time. Your eyes closed as you savored the tender slip and press of his kiss. The mustache was a little bristly, but hardly as intrusive as you thought it may be. The slight tickle of it made you smile.

Bradley drew back, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw before he pressed his face into your neck.

“Goddamn,” He mumbled, voice rumbling against your skin. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

“You have?” You asked, sliding your hand up into his hair.

“Longer than I should’ve been.”

You bit your lip, resting your head against his.

“If it makes you feel any better, so have I.”

He pressed a sweet kiss to the crook of your neck before sweeping his lips over your neck and jaw, up to your ear.

“It does.”

You shivered at the caress of his breath. You turned your head shyly, nuzzling the tip of his nose with yours before tipping your chin up, giving him another gentle kiss. Bradley sighed into you, his grip in your hand tightening as you shifted closer to him. You hummed softly as he leaned back, resting his forehead against yours, chasing his lips for another peck.

“Before I completely monopolize your time, is there anything else that you planned on doing tonight?” You asked. Bradley chuckled, shaking his head.

“I did want to do one thing.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show as you, just nodded.

“What’s that?”

“See how combative you are when you wake up.”

You grinned wide, raising your hand and curling it in his collar, drawing him closer.

“Just you wait, mister.”

Taglist: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce

#Bradley Bradshaw x Reader #Bradley Bradshaw x You #Bradley Bradshaw/Reader #Bradley Bradshaw/You #Bradley Bradshaw fic #Bradley Bradshaw imagine #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader #The Periphery

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abiiors · 1 year

Text

Your lips, my lips // M.H.

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: Singing along to your favourite song in your kitchen and then dancing in your lover’s arms.

Warnings: None, this is just a lot of sappy, fluffy stuff

Word Count: 600 (a short one)

A/N: I would actually pass away if this happened to me but I hope you enjoy it. This is for @mountingmason because I saw them asking for a sober, fluffy Matty and that’s kinda what gave me this idea.

I would really appreciate feedback and engagement. Also, my requests are open.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0yc6Gst2xkRu0eMLeRMGCX?si=b79cc9523de144c0

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

*****

It was a cosy winter evening and you were just in the kitchen, prepping for dinner. Matty must have been somewhere in the house but this was your “me time”; this was when you put on your nice, relaxing playlist, got yourself a glass of whatever you felt like and swayed along to the music in your warm kitchen.

The last of the notes of Body Paint petered out into nothing, leaving you with just the crackling of the fire. But then the familiar notes of the next song began. You smiled to yourself as the music picked up. You absolutely loved singing along to Apocalypse, swaying to the synth and chopping up parsnips. You laughed at the domesticity of the picture.

‘Got the music in you, baby / Tell me why’ you sang softly, ‘Got the music in you, baby / Tell me why’

And then there were fingers on your waist, warm and gentle. You were enveloped by Matty’s cologne and aftershave; a scent that was so unmistakably him. You breathed him in, humming softly.

‘Hello, you…are you going to finally help me with dinner?’ you teased him.

Matty placed a lingering kiss behind your earlobe and then turned you around to look at him. Your heart melted at the sight. He looked so soft in the yellow glow of the kitchen, all cosy in his big jumper.

‘Keep singing, please keep singing,’ he whispered. There might even be something like awe in his voice. And of course, out of the two of you, he was the singer but here in this kitchen, in his arms, you were ready to give him just about anything. So you kept singing.

‘Kisses on the foreheads of the lovers / Wrapped in your arms’ he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead making you giggle a little.

‘You've been hiding them in hollowed out pianos / Left in the dark’

He joined in on the humming, making sure his voice was never louder than yours. It was your show after all and he just felt lucky to be your favourite audience.

You tried to wiggle your way out of his grip, turning around to go back to the food.

‘Absolutely not,’ he breathed, somehow pulling you closer than before.

You laughed at his antics, ‘so what are we going to eat then? Don’t tell me you want to try your hand at cooking today,’ you teased.

‘I don’t need food, I just need you,’ he sighed into your hair, ‘dance with me, my love.’

And how could you not absolutely melt into his touch? The two of you stayed like that, arms around each other, your face nestled in the crook of his neck and his head on top of yours.

‘You've been locked in here forever / And you just can't say goodbye’ he started singing again, encouraging you to join him as you slowly stepped from one foot to the other; perfectly in sync.

Is this what it feels like to be perfectly, incandescently happy, you thought to yourself. The food could wait, hell the rest of the world could wait. What really mattered was here and now, being held in Matty’s arms as he sang to you with his magical voice.

You tilted your face up to look at him and found him already gazing at you with eyes full of love and adoration.

‘Kiss me,’ you whispered. He didn’t need to be told twice.

It was slow and gentle, just like the song, just like your waltz. You could stay like this forever, locked in this one moment stretched to infinity. And just like that, the parsnips lay forgotten on the countertop.

*****

A/N 2: This is my first time putting song lyrics in a one-shot so pls let me know if it works <3

#matty healy x reader #matthew healy x reader #the 1975 #matty healy #matthew healy #fluff #one shot #matty healy fluff #y/n #apocalypse #cigarettes after sex #dancing in the kitchen

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

hey if you’re still taking billy bateson requests could you do one where him and reader are already dating but then he meets his mom and shows up at readers window crying and it’s just lots of hurt/comfort

Honestly didn’t know how to end this fic.

You were alredy experiencing a sleepless night when you heard the tapping of knuckles on glass, indicating the desire to be acknowledged and let inside. You probably should’ve exercised caution beforehand but as you tore open your curtains with haste, and exposing the inner workings of your bedroom to the darkness that lurked just outside, all you could clearly focus in on was the tear streaks on Billy’s cheeks.

‘Billy?’ You breathed.

‘Yeah, it’s me…mind letting me in? My fingers are kinda going numb here.’ He replied, his voice wavering beneath the weight of his unprocessed emotions from what transpired earlier on.

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’ You said as you opened the window, allowing for a cold rush of air to pass through you, causing you to conscientiously rub at your arms, whilst your boyfriend manoeuvres his way inside until he was able to fully stand inside your room. Yet his stance seemed a little hunched in on itself, he nervously fiddled with his fingers, his eyes were downcast and upset. It wasn’t until that moment that you knew what you were looking at;

A lost boy having been rejected by his mother a second time.

You weren’t given the chance to openly console Billy when he came rushing into your arms, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, where you felt the wetness of his tears streak down to your shoulder, soaking the collar of your shirt but that was of no importance to you when you held the broken fragments of your boyfriend in your arms; praying that your embrace could heal him of all his ailments and make him whole once more. ‘She didn’t want me.’ Billy cried, ‘she couldn’t even bring herself to look at me…’ the more he spoke, the more your heart broke.

‘What’s so wrong with me that she can’t take me back?’ You pulled back, soul wincing when you heard his weak whines as his arms held you tightly, deathly afraid that you were going to walk out your bedroom door, never to return for him. ‘Billy, you listen to me and you listen to me good.’ You held his face in your hands, running your thumbs beneath his eyes to dry away his tears, ‘there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. If there’s anyone who’s wrong, it’s your mother for not seeing you for the smart, sweet and beautiful boy that i see you as.’

‘Then why can’t she see that?’ Billy asked, hopelessly. He didn’t think what meeting his mother would entail, he was more transfixed on the idea of having a family to belong to, that he had long forgotten that his mother was first person to betray him and cause him detrimental effects that haunt him still. ‘Because she’s a selfish woman Billy. She only prioritises herself, no matter how many she hurts in the process,’ Billy’s eyes left your face but you moved your head to keep the contact, knowing that while this may hurt for him to hear it but he needed to hear it none the less, you weren’t going to lie to him, ‘even her own son. She left you for selfish reasonings that aren’t excusable.’

‘You won’t leave me…will you?’ Billy asked suddenly, looking at you like a frighten child and clinging onto you tighter as though you were going to slip through his fingertips like sand. God he looked so broken, even more so with the fractures of his hardened facade finally revealing the boy he truly was, the boy who still aching for his mothers love beneath, a boy who felt undoubtably alone and scared, forced into a life filled with more cold hearted monsters then kind hearted humans. ‘No Billy,’ you told him softly, ‘there’s not a chance in hell there’ll ever come a day where I’d leave you. I’m staying for the long haul, baby.’ You then began prepping his face in kisses, making him chuckle for the first time that night.

‘You wanna stay the night or do you want me to call Victor and Rosa?’ You asked him when you noticed the fatigue of today weighing on his shoulders finally taking it’s toll on Billy. ‘Am I allowed to stay the night?’ He asked almost meekly as his hand grasped at your own that remained stuck to his cheek, bringing it down to his side to fiddle with your fingers before intertwining them together. ‘You’re more then welcome to stay the night Billy,’ you tell him, squeezing his hand, ‘I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you to. I just want you to make the decision yourself.’

Billy smiled, ‘okay,’ he says, ‘it looks like I’m staying the night.’

#dc imagines #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fic #dc fanfic #Shazam imagines #Shazam imagine #Shazam x reader #Shazam x you #Shazam fic #Shazam fanfic #billy batson fanfic #billy batson x reader #Billy batson x you #Billy batson fic #Billy batson imagines #Billy batson imagine

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livseses · 3 months

Text

Fuck, shit, as well as damn it ("blast it all to the lower depths" as Ny would say). Idk if we posted this nonsense already. But fuck it. Gonna post it anyways.

Lol

Lmao

Fucking ha even

So we got

DID

(Pt: So we got DID)

We found out from our therapist the other day that she had updated our diagnosis. She went on leave for a few months, and we had a wonderful substitute therapist who had experience treating DID. After she had gotten back she consulted with said substitute and they both agreed that our symptoms matched up more with DID than OSDD-1.

We were fine with this, and she explicitly said that it was due to the memory issues. When we walked through the DES and diagnostic criteria, we didn't think our memory was "beyond normal forgetting". 8-9 months later, and a fresh set of eyes on us, and she got enough of a picture to check that box.

The only real complaint is that we don't know when we would have found this out, because it had come up from an unrelated conversation. But we've come to trust her well enough to believe that it was a simple mistake and not something more abusive of her authority.

But it's left us in a funny place. We've always thought our memory was shit, but not that shit. ADHD working memory out the door, and SDAM tossing the video feeds into the garbage. Nothing dissociative for the most part. Just weird brain quirks with memory.

But after getting hit with this, it's been, like I said, kinda funny feeling. Hell, read the first paragraph. We had agreed yesterday to pick my girlfriend up from work today, and didn't remember that until after the missed calls. That kinda shook us.

We've had missing days a plenty. Times where we were jazzed by the realization that Friday was one (1) day closer than we thought. Times where we were the opposite of jazzed because we missed a class (or a fucking final exam) because we thought we had another day left in the week.

We don't remember more than a handful of experiences from before college, and they dwindle the further back we go. But we know the facts. This kid with our deadname did/said/experienced X, Y, or Z. That kind of stuff. That's always been our memory. That's always been "normal forgetting".

Appointments, obligations, scheduled tasks. They all get missed until we can't do anything about them. We rely on routine. Therapy a 4 pm on Tuesdays. Oh it's at 3? Or on Monday? Guess we're not going. Need to call the doctor during business hours. But it's the weekend so we can't. Oh now it's the evening so we can't. Whoopsie, it's Saturday again and we need to call the doctor during business hours. Oh and file those papers before the kidos arrive at preschool. Gotta remember to file those papers. But it's time to prep for class and all the prep is done so we're incredibly bored and twiddling our thumbs. Kiddos are here but FUCK forgot to file the papers. Maybe after class? Oh yeah, all the tables are clean and nothing else to do but head home so that we can scream and panic because we need to file those papers in the morning before the kiddos get to class.

I don't recall telling this story before. Wait no, the bored look in your eyes reminds me that I saw that look last time I told you this story again.

It's strange and surreal right now to hammer home that yeah, this isn't "normal forgetting". Fuck I remember thinking that maybe the ADHD memory poo would count enough for criterion B. How much does our memory suck and we've just compensated hard? How much do we forget that we forget?

There's something important I need to stress btw. All of this ramble, all of these memory issues, all of this forgetting and amnesia? All of it is irrespective of switches and headmates (save maybe the lost days). DID and plural memory issues almost always treat forgetting as something done between members. It's so frequently held that the memory is held by someone else.

While that's true in many cases, it's absolutely not universal. Our Dx comes from our recurrent gaps in our recall that's not consistent with ordinary forgetting. Not an inability to recall the memories of other headmates. Hell our most recent experience with that was when Ny agreed to pick up my gf, and she forgot; we all forgot.

Maybe that's a nitpick. Maybe I'm being particular. Maybe I'm annoyed. I don't know that our treatment would be any different if we kept OSDD-1 under the notion that DID required intra-idenity amnesia.

But yeah memory is fuck. Ramble is done. I hope this isn't something we posted yesterday or something. But if it is, that's pretty fucking funny to us.

-Faye

#faye post #actually plural #system stuff #did #osdd

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myperfectdad · 1 year

Text

44. Thanksgiving in a box

This story was originally published on My website. Read new My Perfect Dad stories at JayHypnoWriter.com a full week before they drop here, and follow Me @JayHypnoWriter on Twitter for more updates.

The box showed up on our doorstep a week before Thanksgiving. We were confused. It couldn’t possibly have been the prep-by-step Thanksgiving dinner we ordered. It was way too early, and the box wasn’t nearly heavy enough.

“Do you think we got scammed?” I asked my boyfriend Paul.

“What do you mean we, Mr. Subscription Delivery Service Addict?” he said with a smirk. “I’m not the one who ordered it. I told you I’d be happy with pizza and beer.”

We’d done pizza and beer for two consecutive lockdown Thanksgivings. I was ready for something special, but neither of us was a great cook. I wanted premeasured ingredients and a simple chart to follow. Thanksgiving-in-a-box was the answer, or so I thought.

Paul tore the box open, and a blast of confetti shot from it, scaring the crap out of us both. I pulled a card out of the empty box as bits of autumn-colored ticker tape fluttered to the floor.

You now have everything you need for the perfect family holiday. Happy Thanksgiving-in-a-box!

Paul was amused. I was pissed. This was a massive clean-up job, and we had absolutely nothing for Thanksgiving dinner.

“At least we have a week to pivot,” I said, coming back from the kitchen with the broom and dustpan.

“Or there’s always pizza and beer.”

I woke up the following day to the noise of cabinets banging and dishes clattering in the kitchen. It was rare for Paul to rise before me on any day, let alone on one of his days off. I ambled into the kitchen and saw him sorting what looked like a thousand dollars’ worth of groceries, covering every available surface.

“Morning, babe,” I said, interrupting his focused, somewhat manic workflow.

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “I thought I’d get the shopping done for Thanksgiving. I think I got everything we need.”

“Great,” I said. “You seem really… enthusiastic.”

Paul stopped counting potatoes and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight bear hug. Of course, my boyfriend had his romantic moments, but he wasn’t typically this demonstrative.

“I know you wanted Thanksgiving to be special,” he said. “I want to make it special for you. For both of us.”

He released his grip on me and smiled. I looked at him curiously for a moment. “Did you do something different to your hair?”

“No, why?”

I blinked a few times, thinking it was just sleep making me see things. “You’ve gone kinda grey at the temples. In the mustache, too.”

Paul reached into a drawer and pulled out a giant serving spoon. He held it in front of his face as if checking his reflection. “I don’t notice anything different. Why don’t you run along and let me take care of things here?”

I laughed. “Run along?”

The next few days got weird. While we were running errands on Saturday, Paul made an impromptu detour to the thrift store. He picked out an assortment of polo shirts, khaki shorts, and white sneakers. He roused me out of bed at six-thirty on Sunday, and we spent the morning raking all the leaves in the yard. After overhearing me on a challenging work call on Monday, he sat me down for a “heart-to-heart.” He lectured me for 45 minutes about having respect for my elders.

By Tuesday, things had gotten out of hand. Paul walked into my basement office in the middle of my weekly team huddle to tell me I needed to pick up our room. I gestured for him to leave, but he wouldn’t budge. So finally, I muted myself and switched off my camera to deal with this.

“I’ll do it after my meeting ends,” I said.

“No,” Paul said sternly. “You should have done it this morning. You’ll do it now.”

“I’ve been busy,” I said, exasperated. “I didn’t have time this morning. I’ll do it later.”

“If you don’t have time to do it right, when will you have to do it over?”

The silence between us grew tense. I stared at Paul, and he stared right back at me. Then, finally, he broke the silence.

“As long as you live under my roof, you live under my rules.”

My boyfriend looked different. Older somehow, but also more… authoritative. He stood even taller and exuded a confidence I had never noticed in him before. My resistance started showing cracks. I didn’t want Paul to be mad at me. I loved him, but I wanted him to be proud of me even more.

I sat down at my desk and jumped back on the call.

“Hey guys,” I started, unsure how to articulate how I felt about what just happened. “I’ve got to take care of something quick. I’ll be right back.”

Paul folded his arms across his chest and smiled at me. “See how easy that was?”

“Yes,” I said, following him out of my office and upstairs to our bedroom.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I’d had enough of Paul’s weird new attitude by Wednesday night, so I called up a work buddy and managed to get invited to his Friendsgiving Eve pub crawl. Sure, I’d be the oldest guy in the group by at least a decade, but it beat staying home with Paul, my now domineering man-of-the-house boyfriend.

The pub crawl didn’t start until ten, which was my new weeknight bedtime—one of Paul’s “my roof, my rules” directives. I waited until he fell asleep in front of the TV and sneaked past the living room toward the garage. I didn’t get far.

“Evan, turn around and come here.”

Fuck. I mean, frick. I returned to the living room, where Paul was waiting for me. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of faded gym shorts. I stared at his belly. His grey hair reflected the glow from the fireplace. My cock stiffened. As much as I had wanted to avoid him these last few days, the way he looked now only made him sexier to me. The longer I spent around him, the harder it got to disobey or disagree.

“Where were you going?”

I stared at my shoes. “Nowhere.”

He pointed at the sofa. I instinctively went to sit down.

“I don’t like asking questions twice.”

I sighed. “Just out. With some friends.”

Paul dragged a chair over and sat down directly in front of me. He spread his legs to fill the space, and I could see the outline of his cock and balls in his thin shorts. “What if you’d gotten hurt while you were gone? You might be lying dead in a ditch somewhere, and I’d be up all night worrying.”

“Sorry, Sir.” Sir had become an almost automatic part of my vocabulary. I couldn’t remember exactly when. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”

“I know you didn’t.” Paul leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. His pecs rested on his belly, and I felt precum on the insides of my underwear. “Now, why don’t you run upstairs and get in bed. Tomorrow’s a big day.” ��

“Yes, Sir.” We stood. Paul extended his hand. I shook it. When our hands touched, something happened to us both. Dizziness and disorientation caused us to stagger, and we gripped our hands tighter to keep our balance. My double vision cleared, and I saw Paul pinching the bridge of his nose. My eyes darted down to his shorts. He was tenting.

“You all right, son?”

I looked back up at Sir. He smiled like he always did when he caught me looking. I let go of his hand, and he massaged his bulging erection.

“Yes, Sir! Thank You, Sir!”

“Good boy.” He rubbed my neck with the same hand that had touched his cock. “Now go get some shut-eye. I need my number one potato peeler rested and ready to work bright and early.”

I hugged him tightly, ensuring our bulges made contact, and then ran up the stairs to our room. I was excited for tomorrow and hoped I would fall asleep quickly. I couldn’t wait for our special family Thanksgiving.

Want more works like this? Buy Me a present off My Amazon wish list as a way to help support this and other writing endeavors.

#gay #dad #gay dad #male tf

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mrs-johansson · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3: Dark Phoenix I - Goddess of Fire

Part 7:

“So, what is this actually supposed to do?” I asked as some guys tied me up to the lab chair. They shared a look then most of them left, but one man stayed. His behavior was strange. Puzzling eyes as his hands were shaking over the chair’s belt. “Prep her,” someone said and the guy who remained by my side put a teeth shield in my mouth and leaned my head back. “Don’t object, that way it’s easier,” he whispered and left to stand with his colleagues.

I shut my eyes as the door closed. I hated this part, it was so painful and there was no outcome from the treatment. Took one last deep breath in and I’ve met hell once again.

***

After the treatments, I tend to pass out. Even though it doesn't work, I always lose consciousness. I get brought back to my “room” and I wake up a couple of hours later, I can even imagine they give me something to not wake up too soon.

Every minute something hit my head, nothing big but rather small and kinda fluffy. Opening my eyes at the lowest pace, I moved my head away from the light that was coming through the window. Blinking a couple of times, tried to look for the things that were continuously thrown at me. And all I could see were pieces of bread. “в конце концов…(Finally),” the familiar voice said and I looked over at him.

James had his back against the wall and legs pulled up, his elbows resting on his knees. Piercing blue eyes fixated on the small space between the door and the ceiling. The rough look on his face scremed that he was furious. “Ты не просто бросал в меня куски хлеба…(You did not just throw bread pieces on me)” A smirk pulled on his lips. That’s new..

Sat up on my bed and pulled the covers over my shoulder. “How long was I out?” Clearing my throat I held onto the edge of the bed while I got up. Grabbed the cup from my side table and walked to the sink in my bathroom. I let the cup get filled with water and chugged the whole glass. leaving the cup there I curiously waited for James to answer.

His jaw was clenched and he had his hands in fists. “Barnes…” Walked closer to the cell door and saw the concern in his blue eyes. “12 hours… They came to check on you multiple times. Stasya you were screaming while you were-” “Don’t call me that. I’ve told you that’s not my name…” The level of my anxiety was becoming unbearable, I felt like throwing up from that name. When he says that name all I can think about is what he did to me and I can’t deal with that, especially when I’m face-to-face with him. “Sorry.” “I just need a minute.”

***

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I stepped up to the sink and let the water flow, then I let out a sob. Trying to take deep breaths in but I failed miserably. Maniacally started tugging on my hair and I just couldn't stop the memories floating in my mind.

The only thing I wanted was to have Natasha by my side, have her arms around me and just breathe in her calming scent that I love so much. She always knows how to get me out of this state. Those soothing words she whispers against my trembling skin and the caresses on my back, no better feeling in the world than her.

Just find me soon, love.

***

“Okay, if I don’t get out of here today, I don’t think I’m gonna make it so.. yeah.” I said after a while. We’ve been sitting in front of each other and just staring.

“Alright but I have one question..” He stood up and crossed his arms in front of his chest. I nodded my head and looked forward to his question. “почему ты доверяешь мне?(Why do you trust me?)” Literal confusion crossed his face and honestly that thought crossed my mind also.

There were two unbreakable glass doors between us and a small hallway. I could say I was feeling protected because of that, but we were face to face several times. We had contact with each other and I did not flinch once.

Maybe it was because I unconsciously prepared myself for the worst or it’s because he wasn’t under control all the time.

I looked down at his neck and my handprint was clearly visible. “Do you remember how you got that?” I asked and he shook his head.

Looked down at my hands then back at him. “Couple weeks ago, I had a mission. In Siberia, my team and I had to collect some information on Hydra.” I sat down by the glass door, leaning my head against the cold surface. “I thought it was in and out but when I found a lab with two guards, you appeared. All controlled and everything, of course, but you shot them. I didn’t know why, but then you remember my name.. well my fake name. I got scared not gonna lie. With every fiber in my being, I was hoping I would not be taken back to the Red Room because I could not bear one more second there. We started fighting, I almost choked to death, then I got up and burned your neck. I was so mad and afraid, that I thought if I’d hurt you I’d gain back everything that I’ve lost while I was undercover,” with a sigh my eyes found James once again and I could see how disappointed he was in himself. “I needed time to realize that he was a totally different person. I remember your face when Dreykov told us that they took the baby or when they brought me into the medical center when I got shot. You were human, multiple times. Somehow, I still hope every time we meet that it’s you who I meet with and not the Winter Soldier so.. I guess you can say I rely on hope. That’s how I trust you.” “Just call me Bucky. My friends called me Bucky,” he said and I chuckled. “Bucky?” “Buchanan, my second name.” “Got it.” “Thank you, by the way. For not giving up on me..” He murmured. “I’m very stubborn, so I don’t really give up on people,” how many times have I heard that from Nat, gosh I miss her so bad.

“It was a girl.” I lifted my head to listen to what he said. “What?” Bucky shifted in his place and played with the edge of his boot. “When they told us that they took the baby.. They didn’t kill her. Dreykov knew that it was a girl so they kept her alive. When she reached 9 months, when she was supposed to be born, doctors did all kinds of tests on her. Turned out she was deaf-mute and they did not keep her. I saw when they took her away, I don’t know if she’s alive or not, that was the last time I saw her.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x stark!reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x you #black widow x reader #marvel #gxg #y/n stark #stark reader #hydra #bucky barnes #the winter soldier

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ladyelissarose · 2 years

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Warnings: So part 10 has a part 2 only because I wanted Chapter 11 to start perfectly on the drama. -oops.. no spoilers Rose! Anyways, this Chapter has nothing serious. Just clearing things up and opening them for the next ;)

“The Secrets of Gotham-Unmasked”

Chp. 10 pt.2

Y/n wrapped her legs around Bruce’s waist as she held him against her bare chest, they were working on catching their breaths after there moment of bliss. Their sweaty skin stuck to each other but they couldn’t care less. Bruce kissed the valley between her breasts and asked,

“Are you ok baby?”

He felt her arms wrap tighter around him as she confessed,

“More than ok.. we could’ve been doing this so long ago if I had known.. how great you are.”

He chuckled and blushed,

“you think I was great? But it was my first-“

“You made it perfect.. you took care of me and made me feel comfortable and happy.. you make me happy baby.”

He smiled and laid his head back down on her chest. He had tried so hard to hold on for her and to give her the best, it had hurt her for a little at first, and he kinda freaked out. But Y/n guided him and told him that was normal, it was something new for her body. But after a few moments of explaining how to prep her then how to proceed, he became a pro in seconds. He then got up to look at Y/n and said,

“Let’s go clean up ok?”

“ok”

Bruce helped her into the bathroom and they took a quick shower, they then returned under the covers on the futon after they each put on clean boxers. Bruce loves seeing her with his boxers on, it just made him feel closer to her. They got comfortable under the blanket and Bruce asked,

“you want to lay here for a couple of hours? We have until midnight to go out.”

“yeah.. I just wanna be with you, hold you, feel you.. right here.”

“ok love.. I’m here.”

Bruce then moved them to where they were both on their sides and Bruce brought her close to his chest and Y/n tangled her legs with his. It was barely ‘10:15’ so they had a couple of hours of rest before having to go out. So they took a short nap together.

Alfred’s POV

Alfred has already returned from buying a tree, he made sure to find the best one then had them bring it to the Manor. They set it up for him as Alfred took out the lights and ornaments. Once they left he turned on the small recorder in the kitchen and let it play soft Christmas music in the background, and began to decorate the tree. Doing such brought back so many memories, like when he would assist Bruce’s mother, Martha, to put the tree together. It brought tears to his eyes as his chest warmed up at the flashback it gave him,

*Flashback*

“Alfred Alfred!! Mom wants us to put up the Christmas tree!! Come on! Come help us!”

Martha had tried to engrave into Little Bruce’s head that to address Alfred as Mr.Pennyworth, but he never listened, especially because Alfred said it was ok. So Bruce ran up to Alfred happily as he tugged on his vest begging him to follow him to the living room where his mother was. Alfred nodded yes and let himself be practically dragged to the living room. Martha chuckled at the sight and said,

“Bruce Thomas Wayne, let go of poor Mr.Pennyworth’s vest! You can ruin it-“

“Don’t worry Mrs.Wayne, he’s alright.”

Alfred chimed in, Bruce still let go and tried to fixed his now wrinkled vest with his little hands, but nonetheless smiled and went on to say,

“Can you carry me to put the star on?”

“Of course son, come here little man.”

During the time Thomas Wayne, Bruce’s father, was busy running campaigns and attending meetings for his upcoming run for Mayor. So that day he wasn’t around, making Alfred the man of the house for the day, or for the days Thomas wasn’t around. But Alfred was never bothered by it, it only made him more protective over the Wayne’s. So Alfred picked up little Bruce. Bruce took a few minutes to adjust the star on the tree, it hurt Alfreds arms just a little to be holding him up so high for quite a while, but he never complained. Once Bruce was content he let Alfred know to put him down, which Alfred was more than happy to do as he put him down gently. The minute Bruce’s feet touched the floor he turned around and hugged Alfreds legs and he thanked him,

“Thank you Alfred!! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Bruce.”

Alfred mirrored the true and genuine smile Bruce held, his little blue-grayish eyes were almost swallowed by his little pupils that were so dilated at the moment. He was happy, innocent, and complete, not afraid of anything. He had his family. And that was the last Christmas they had after that.’

*End of flashback*

Alfred held the star in his hands, as he looked at his now decorated tree proudly, he decided that he would leave the star for Y/n and Bruce to put up together, so he went to his office and grabbed a small piece of paper and wrote a small note for Y/n. He went back to the living area and set the star down by the tree on a table with the note next to it. Just as he was going to prepare some warm tea the clock chimed ‘11:30’

‘Oh it’s almost time for them to go, let me go see if they need help.’

Y/n’ POV

Y/n’s watch beeped loudly waking them up, she had set it for ‘11:30’. Bruce shook awake and sat up slowly while stretching, he smiled at Y/n who was now laying under him holding a shy but happy smile. He bent down his head and pecked her lips,

“Let’s get ready baby, come on.”

“ok..”

He gave Y/n her bra to put on and he picked out the thickest sweats and sweatshirt to wear under her suit. He remembered how cold it would be on winter nights in Gotham. He handed them to her and helped her slip her feet through the legs of the pants as she put on her sweatshirt. As he began to get on his sweats they heard the elevator ding. Bruce without second thought stood in front of Y/n shielding her, but went at ease when he saw Alfred coming out, so they both greeted him in sync,

“Evening Alfred”

“Evening you two.. is there a way I can help?”

Bruce nodded yes as he approached Y/n’s mannequin,

“Could you help us put this on Y/n?”

Alfred was confused for a moment before asking,

“I thought you two tried that out- oh.”

He then quickly realized what had gone down at focusing on the purple mark Bruce had right under his ear and how both of them had a mess of their hairs, and how their cheeks began to paint themselves a bright shade of red, he put two in two together and figured out what had happened. But of course he didn’t push it. He gestured for Y/n to come to him as Bruce hurriedly began to take the suit off the mannequin.

“Alright dear, these sweats have to go under the suit, first to keep you warm and to protect your body more. We are going to start with the pants ok?”

“Ok.”

Y/n stood still as she waited for Bruce to hand her her pants, once she got them she began to slip them on. Bruce got on his knees and helped her put one leg into each pant leg, not letting the sweats ride up inside the pants. Y/n held onto Alfred’s shoulders so she could balance herself easier. After the pants went on they went to the chest plated vest. It went over her head and Bruce began to show her with his hands how to put it together as Alfred voiced the instructions,

“Alright dear, the front, back, and sides click onto the pant belt, keeping it all put together, making it into one suit. We pull these straps on the sides to tighten it around your waist and chest. But we’ll let you adjust the top part,”

Alfred didn’t want Bruce to apply to much pressure to her top chest, hurting her breasts. Bruce was still kinda innocent and not realizing that her breasts are sensitive and can’t be strapped tightly behind a suit like his chest could. But that’s why Alfred was there to assist. So he let her do it herself until she was confident that it was tight enough but still ok and not hurting her. Alfred nodded his head approvingly,

“Perfect, let’s get your boots on.”

Bruce helped Y/n onto the desk as Alfred brought her boots to her. He began to explain,

“So with the boots, we tuck the pants into the boots, and we make sure to tuck the laces inside the boot too. Making sure they don’t come out and trip you over.”

Y/n did exactly as Alfred explained to the ‘T’, once she finished Bruce came with the gadgets as he said,

“These knives go strapped around your boot, they usually come in handy when fists aren’t enough. And this taser goes on your leg as well, and the stun gun on on your belt. Emergency button will be on your belt too, to the right side.”

Once she placed each one in their place she slid off the desk and stood up,

“What’s next?”

“These gloves dear, but first you need to wear the wraps, giving your knuckles more coverage, then put the gloves on.”

Bruce then decided,

“I think I’ll go as Batman tonight, I just have a feeling I might need to.. maybe next time we’ll go as ‘drifters’.”

“I thought the same Bruce, go ahead and get started.”

Bruce began to get dressed into his suit as Alfred guided her to putting on the rest of the suit, making sure it was on perfectly, he then went for the mask.

“You won’t have the same mask as Bruce, your mask will cover from your nose down. But you will wear a hoodie to shield your head.”

Y/n put her hair in a quick french braid and tucked into her suit.

Alfred handed Y/n the mask and she placed it on as he pulled the hoodie out of the neck of her suit, putting over her head. It hovered perfectly and right over her eyes, He sighed in contentment,

“This is turning out better than I expected, oh, and you need these lens for your eyes, it might hurt at first but it’ll be fine afterwards.”

He handed her the lens and she placed them on her eyes, she then asked,

“Is this ok”

Alfred nodded yes,

“More than ok.. look Bruce.”

She turned around to face a now suited Bruce, and his jaw just about dropped, she looked so.. good.

‘Why do I look like a creep and she gets to look like a warrior goddess? Nonetheless woah..’

“It’s perfect.. are you sure you still want to do this?”

Y/n shook her head as she spoke through the mask,

“I’m more than sure Bruce.”

Bruce then realized what was missing, he grabbed the black smudge he had just used before putting on his cowl and walked to her, he put some on his gloved fingers and addressed her to close her eyes,

“Close you eyes,”

She closed them tightly as Bruce rubbed the black smudge around her eyes carefully, once he got an approving look from Alfred he stood back and said,

“I think we’re ready.”

“I think so too.”

Alfred suggested,

“Take the Batmobile tonight, it’s too cold for the bike. And please be safe, Y/n if you ever feel too overwhelmed you can call me, I’ll come get you. Don’t hesitate.”

“Thank you Alfred, I’ll let you know..”

“Alright then, you two be safe.”

“”Thankyou.””

Alfred sent her a goodbye as he walked them to the Batmobile. Y/n got in quickly, first because she was cold, but second because she was scared out of her mind.

‘God is this stupid? No, no.. it’s not.. the more I can do the better, people need help, I need to find Saunders, and I want to see this RedHood face to face.. I can do this.. I think I got this dad.. I’m doing this for you and Y/b/n.’

Her thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Bruce’s door closing, she watched as Alfred began to step away from the Batmobile walking to the elevator then going up. Bruce took her hands in his large one as he saw them shake a little,

“Baby look at me.”

Y/n locked her eyes with his eyes that shone so brightly through the black smudge that covered his eyes, he then went on to say,

“You don’t have to do this, I mean it. But if you want to, just know that I’m with you,”

They then both said in sync,

“”From dusk till dawn, I’ll be there for you, till the end, and even then, my ghost will be with you, to protect and watch over you.””

Her eyes watered as they said their promise to each other, Bruce pulled her mask down as placed a sweet chaste kiss to her lips, he then gently pulled it back up.

“Remember, you cant say my name, I’m Chief, Batman, Bats, or B to you. And I’ll address you as Shadow, or... grey, sense your suit is grey. Ok?”

“Ok.. should we have a code name in case we’re in danger or such? Like what if we can’t reach our emergency buttons or something?”

Bruce thought for a second but agreed,

“You’re right, what should we have?”

Y/n looked around but couldn’t think of anything, that was until she remembered the bats that hung on the top of the Batcave, but decided to go after another name as her mind thought of Christmas all of sudden, she then found it.

“Robin... I like the code name Robin.”

Bruce found out he liked it too, it was short and perfect.

“Robin it is, just remember it ok?”

“I will.”

Once they felt they were ready Bruce put the address down on the GPS system he had built in that lead them to Saunders old property, he then turned on the engine letting the Batmobile roar to life, he began to back out and before they knew it they were on the streets. Gotham City welcomed them with a slight snowfall, not to heavy. Y/n looked out the window and loved how the darkest city shined a little brighter with Christmas lights. She began to feel more calm and ready, prepared. Fear still made her heart pump faster, but that only gave her the drive she needed. Especially with Bruce by her side, the man she had grown to love and cherish dearly, she knew he wouldn’t let her down.

Bruce also felt uneasy and was debating if it was a mistake presenting the idea to her, but he turned his head to right and saw how Y/n sat there in peace but at the same time some calm vigor. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her, in every way. She was his love, anchor, partner, and best friend. From the first time of seeing her, Bruce knew they would get along well, they held the same passion and she was trustworthy, wise, and undeniably strong. As well as a super soft, respectful, and sweet person. She understood when Bruce needed space and when he needed her almost on top of him. She read him well when he couldn’t speak. And after bonding like they did tonight.. there was no way on earth Gotham could take her back, she was his.. and he was hers.

#bruce wayne x y/n #batman #bruce wayne #batman comics #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne icons #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #battinson fanfiction #battinson x y/n #battinson #the batman #battinson x reader #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman x reader

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sellieellie · 2 years

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okay so we had our pregame to our fourth of july anti party (basically a party but with only our main group)

it was me, bella, jason, spencer, connor, and will.

throughout the party, it seemed that spencer and i got our regular banter back and we were back to normal. something tiny that stuck out to me was when i was joking around with bella and i showed her this picture of me with a little figurine at the mall and she said “is that your man?” and spencer suddenly became very interested.

as the night went on, we all got more drunk, especially me and bella. i went to get a drink from the garage but told everyone that i needed someone to come with me because it was dark and spencer was the first to offer. he was being very touchy with me but i didn’t want to take it too far because i thought he was still kind of serious with this other girl.

turns out, he wasn’t. at one point in the night, when we were all super drunk, i was talking to connor about some mindless shit and everyone else was in the corner talking about something. apparently, spencer was asking bella if he should make a move on me. bella was telling him that i was insecure and he said that i was gorgeous. bella told me that he thought i was a really cool person.

he was gushing to the group about me and will came over to tell me about it but i couldn’t really find it in myself to believe him. then bella came over to me and pulled me aside to tell me everything. apparently he wanted to make a move on me but he was scared that connor liked me and didn’t want to hurt anyone (this is funny now and you’ll see why soon). bella told him he should because i’ve liked spencer for so long and the only reason i really talked to connor was for a distraction.

when bella and i were alone later in the night, she was trying to prep me for kissing and other activities lmao. she ended up hiding a condom in my bag in case i needed it which i found this morning lmao.

at this point, it was four, nearing five am and everyone was tired. spencer and will had crashed on the couch and connor was about to fall asleep as well. bella wanted to play matchmaker and she woke spencer up and told him to come sleep in a bed instead of the couch, and she told me to sleep in the same bed. she led us to our room and closed the door and he was actually really cool about it. he asked if i actually wanted it closed and i said it was up to him so he kept it closed which led me to believe something would ensue.

we ended up cuddling again but it felt more intimate this time, somehow? i’m not sure. i think because the last time we were really only spooning but this time i put my head on his chest and he told me to swing my leg over his body. he also put his hand under my shirt and rubbed my back and he held hands with me a lot more this time. in the morning he said he wasn’t tired but he still stayed to cuddle. he was being really sweet, like even brushing my hair behind my ears and shit.

a few hours later he told me he was gonna go home for a bit before we had the actual party tonight and i said goodbye and he drove home. i went back to sleep.

i woke up to a text from spencer saying that he didn’t think this thing between was gonna work and he didn’t want to take it any further. he sent it only a few minutes after he left.

so once again i am left extremely hurt by spencer. and the first time it wasn’t his fault, like we were just cuddling and he never insinuated that anything would happen. but this time he got my hopes up because he told my whole friend group that he liked me and he was being so tender with me.

i just can’t help but feel like i did something but he made sure to reassure me that he thought i was cute and it was nothing against me??? idk i just kinda wish that he wouldn’t have even cuddled with me this time if he was just gonna decide that it wouldn’t work. it was just such a quick turnaround so i’m confused. not that people aren’t allowed to change their minds but i just wish he would’ve thought about it harder because it did hurt me.

i told bella about it in the morning and she talked me through it and told me that it wasn’t me, and that he’s kind of notorious for this kind of thing. i’m grateful to have bella and i’m trying so hard to believe her but i just can’t help but feel like he wouldn’t have sent that text if i had done something different. i just can’t figure out what.

update: bella just texted me and tried to give me some perspective. she asked for jason’s opinion as well. they think that he does like me and thinks i’m pretty but he’s afraid to catch feelings because we’re going to different colleges in the fall and we’ll be an hour or two away from each other. i don’t quite remember this from last night but bella also told me that connor thinks i’m pretty and cool as well. but i don’t think i should pursue anything with him right now because i think it’d just look weird on my end since connor and spencer are such good friends. idk. bella and jason are great friends though for getting me out of my head with this. i love them.

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (viii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He doesn’t expect to see you on TV.

In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.

But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.

You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest.

He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.

Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.

You better get your ass here, sarge

And so he does.

Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.

“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self.

“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”

“What’s your dumb plan then?”

“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”

“Where is it?”

“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”

Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm.

The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.

There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.

“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”

“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.

“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”

He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”

“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”

He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.

“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction.

“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.”

Bucky looks down.

“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”

“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”

“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”

“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”

Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.

"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.”

“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.

“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”

He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.

“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”

“No. Stay there.”

“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.

“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.

“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked.

When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome.

“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.

“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.

He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went.

“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence.

Now that simply wouldn’t do.

Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.

“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.

“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”

“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.

“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him.

“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”

He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure.

“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”

“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat.

“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”

“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.

He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-

“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand.

You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.

“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you.

“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.

“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.

“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately.

If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.

The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair.

“What the fu-”

“Hello,” your voice comes from above him.

“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.

“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”

He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.

“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.

There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.

“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.

“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.

“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.

“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate.

“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.

“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.

“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him.

He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.

“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”

He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.

“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help.

He rolls his eyes.

You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand.

He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory.

He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.

The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.

“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”

He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.

“Right.” You clear your throat.

He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance.

“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”

“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.

“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”

He didn’t.

“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”

Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?

“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”

“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?”

He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back.

“You go on missions a lot?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.

He got that reference.

“What’s your favourite food then?”

He scrunches his eyebrows.

“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”

It’s not, he’s just never thought about it.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”

“Vague, but I’ll take it.”

He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own.

It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side.

“What do you do in your downtime?”

“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.

“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm.

There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?

“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”

You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”

He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.

“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”

“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him.

The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.

“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually.

He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.

Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle.

“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that.

Frankly, he’s a little stunned.

You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”

At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.

A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.

You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there.

“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”

“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.

“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage.

He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets.

Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-

“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”

Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”

He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.

The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints.

You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.

“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job.

“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”

Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.

Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.

He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.

Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.

You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.

You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.

“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”

He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder.

“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.”

He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.

“You wanted to talk to me.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh.

“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”

“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”

He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it.

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down.

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by.

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin.

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home.

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out.

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself.

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry.

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss.

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends.

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve.

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on.

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine.

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument.

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face.

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in.

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand.

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer.

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him.

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment.

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room.

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you.

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you.

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you.

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace.

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material.

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry.

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth.

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle.

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose.

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony.

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise.

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say.

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change.

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love.

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt.

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious.

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him.

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether.

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back.

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly.

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly.

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested.

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same?

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far.

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so.

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick.

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it.

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note.

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning.

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment.

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness.

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face.

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom.

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep.

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard.

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work.

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier.

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break.

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen.

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window.

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks.

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you.

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool.

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.”

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket.

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Note

Hi if you still do request could you do a There is only one bed with Tim maybe with some teasing?

Warning: smut

“So it’s not ideal,” you said with a little smile that you covered with your hand. Tim was exasperated. You could slum it. He was not used to this.

Admittedly the cabin was worse that what you remember. As a kid, your family had visited every fall to pick apples and hike. Marshmallows by the fireplace before telling ghost stories and all.

But that was over 10 years ago and not in midwinter. Now the windows were boarded and the fireplace was barely useable. Which was good, as it was literally freezing.

When Tim had said he needed a place to crash after a mission for you both, you offered this place. It was only a few miles north of your location. But it was also trash. The couch leg gave way as Tim sat down and he almost fell to the floor.

“So this is technically a cabin in the woods. But I’d rather burn it to the ground,” Tim said. “I’m going to the bathroom, unless it’s an outhouse or just a hole in the ground.”

“No no. Real bathroom,” you motioned to it. He went in the other room. You sat on the bed, the only functional piece of furniture besides a dodgy table. You were glad that you brought extra sheets and the plastic protector over the mattress. After scrubbing the cover and putting on the sheets, you sat down to pull off your boots. Ice was still clinging to the bottom. You put them near the front door and stood by the fire. Tim came out changed into thick sweats.

“You should change,” he said, motioning to your suit. You turned away from him.

“Can you?” You asked about the long zipper that went from the top of your neck to right above your ass.

“Oh, sure,” Tim said walking close. There had always been some kind of sexual tension between you both but neither had ever acted on it. He looked at your black leather suit lit up in the firelight. It clung perfectly to every curve.

He delicately pushed your hair from the back of your neck over your shoulder and grasped the zipper. Tim pulled it down almost painfully slowly. You felt your skin prickle as he slowly touched down your back. His fingers hesitated to move away from your back. Tim pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat.

“Done,” he said in a lower tone. You turned back to see him standing so close. He watched you. Tim wasn’t particularly tall, only a little more than you, or bulky, with lean muscles. But he was so pretty with thick dark eye lashes and silky hair.

“You should probably get dressed. You’re cold,” he said noting the way your forearms shivered as they held the front of your suit up. You nodded and grabbed your clothing before heading to the bathroom. It was even colder in there. Frost covered the window and you could see your breath. You quickly dressed into pajamas.

In the main room, Tim was sweeping the floor. “Not that it doesn’t need it or anything, but why are you sweeping?” You asked.

“One bed. The couch is shit. I’m sleeping on the floor,” Tim said. There was no way you’d let him. He’d freeze with the draft and limited blankets.

“No way. Just sleep in the bed,” you said. He gave you a look you couldn’t comprehend before shaking his head. “Tim, you could freeze to death down there. I won’t let you,” you said trying to sound authoritative.

“I’ll be fine,” he shrugged.

“I won’t bite. Get up here,” you said sitting on the bed.

“Sure about that?” He said with a sly smile.

“Only on Tuesdays,” you said with a little smirk. He chuckled. “I’m not letting you sleep down there. My house, my rules.”

“Ouch. I guess I can’t argue with that, hu?” Tim said putting the broom down. He carefully climbed in the other side of the bed without touching you despite being a small bed. Tim laid flat on his back with his arms tight to his body.

You slid under the covers shivering. “Okay, I hope you’re okay with me stealing body heat from you because I’m fucking freezing,” you said sliding your back against him. Tim shifted to his side and you pressed against his warm chest. “I don’t know how you aren’t cold.”

“I’m from Gotham. The weather is terrible year round,” he reminded you. Tim didn’t lay his arms across you or anything but let you spoon against him. He was carefully passive like a gentleman. After a few minutes, you shivering stopped and you finally warmed. The pull of sleep dragged you under and you slept for a few hours.

The crackle of fire and gentle rapping sound of snow falling was the only sounds you heard in the early morning. Tim’s breath on your neck and arms wrapped around you tightly were very distracting. You resisted the urge to shiver at the sensation. How many times had you wanted this?

You shifted a little to go back to sleep and Tim’s hands wrapped tighter. One hand snakes down to cup your breast in sleep, pulling you flush to his body. You inhaled quickly and was wide awake. How could you sleep when the guy you liked was holding your actual tit? You tried to stay still but your body made small adjustments.

Tim made a soft “hmmm” sound and you froze. That’s when you felt it, he was hard. You felt like you were going to burst. He was holding your tit and rubbing his dick against you in his sleep. It’s just biology. It means nothing, you told yourself.

But you needed to get out of his grip because your body was definitely reacting to him. You tried to scoot your hips forward but this arms around you were clinging too tightly. Tim groaned and rubbed his cheek in your hair.

“Tim,” you whispered a little too breathless. He hummed again. “Tim,” you said a little louder.

“Is too early. Go to sleep,” Tim mumbled. He didn’t moved. You thought about trying to sleep but Tim was very distracting.

“Tim,” you said in a regular voice. He huffed.

“What?”

“You... you’re, uh,” you said unsure how to tell him. Your penis is rubbing up against my ass? You’re feeling me up in your sleep? “Let me go, please.”

“I don’t have you,” he protested before waking up more. Tim moved his head and opened his eyes. You could feel him freeze as he took in the situation. Tim quickly let you go and pulled back to one side of the bed. His face was brick red and his hips were almost falling off the bed trying to make as much space as possible between you both.

“Sorry! Fuck, sorry! I didn’t mean- how long was I-“ he said halfway freaking out. You turned to face him.

“It’s okay. Relax,” you said calmly.

“I don’t control when it happens when I’m asleep, you know?” Tim said sitting up and clutching the sheets hiding his crotch. You sat up and grasped the sides of his face.

“It’s fine. I know how biology works,” you reassured him.

“And I didn’t mean to grab you. I was asleep,” he added. “I swear I didn’t-“

“Tim!” You said finally shutting him up. He stared at you and gulped. Your hands on his face didn’t exactly help his uhh... problem he was desperately trying to make go away.

“What?”

“You. Are. Fine. I cuddled with you, right? Not super surprising. It happens,” you said and he relaxed a little. “It was kinda nice laying with you,” you murmured. Tim glanced down at your lips before snapping back up to your eyes like he broke a rule. “You smell nice. And you’re warm,” you added. You stared at his lips obviously.

“I got to ask, are you hitting on me?” Tim asked warily.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, detective. I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

Tim smiled and grasped your face for a kiss. You pulled him down on top of you as you kissed. He inhaled quickly before adjusting to the change. His knees gently pushed between yours and you pressed your hips up against his and was rewarded with a groan.

You reached down to cup him in his pjs. Tim kissed down your neck and his hips pushed his cock in your hand with more pressure. His hand cupped your breast and squeezed.

“Do you want to?” He asked.

“Absolutely. Condoms are in the top zipper of my suitcase,” you said breathlessly. You’d be a fucking idiot to say no to the one chance to sleep with the guy you like.

“You came prepared?” He asked.

“They just stay in there,” you answered and he nodded before getting up to grab one. Tim turned around to blink a little as you were completely nude and staring up at him predatorily. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t hot.

“Eager,” he breathed climbing back over you, pulling off clothing. You shrugged. You took the condom from him to put it on.

“Do we need to-“

“Penis in vagina. I don’t need a ton of prep. I super appreciate the offer. Seriously, next time go nuts. But it’s like 5 degrees in here and I’m ready as hell,” you said and he almost laughed.

“Can do,” he said pulling the blankets over you both. He sunk in and you breathed out quickly. Tim wrapped his arms around you behind your back to kiss your chest and neck as he moved. It has you breathless. It was so intimate. He was completely pressed against you.

His lips found yours and he kissed you in pace with his hips rocking against yours. You bent your knees and you gasped as he was now rocking against a spot that had you seeing stars.

“There,” you breathed and Tim simply nodded. Fuck, it wasn’t going to take long at this pace. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you whimpered before clenching around him with his name on your tongue. Tim groaned and thrust through your high before finishing himself. He kissed up your collarbone and neck to your lips before pulling out to throw away the condom and pull on his pjs. You did the same in the chill.

He climbed back in bed and snuggled close. “Okay, yeah. It’s cold as hell,” Tim said with a little laugh. You laid your head on his chest and entwined your legs together with the blanket pulled tight and the cold was more bearable.

#friday night smut #tim drake x reader #batboy smut #Red Robin x reader #Tim drake smut #Red Robin smut

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

girl next door [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: the time has come where you realise your boyfriend just isn’t worth it, and your neighbour may or may not be an Avenger

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: part 3 is here! I kinda got carried away and wrote two more parts so my bad, but i hope you like it!

I couldn't be bothered with today. I just wasn't in the mood to go to work, so of course, I procrastinated as much as I could in the morning until it was finally time for me to get out of bed without being late.

Teddy had fallen asleep here last night after we watched a film, but he left earlier for work, so it was just me. I knew I had to break it off with him, it was time. But I didn't know how to tell him without hurting him. So, I was cowardly in that sense, which was only worse because I was leading him on. I'll find a way to say something soon, I promised myself as I took my clothes off and wrapped a towel around myself.

When I headed to the bathroom, I immediately slipped on the wet floor that only one person could have left behind. But, unlike the many times I had done so, I wasn't able to catch myself and instead fell on my leg, hearing a deadly crack noise, forcing a scream from my lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I got out through gritted teeth, tears slipping from my eyes. The pain was unbearable and as I looked to my leg, I knew something was wrong because it instantly began to swell up and change colour.

Taking deep breaths to get through the pain, I tried not to imagine the several ways I was going to skin Teddy alive. He was so ignorant! How many times did I have to explain to him how dangerous it was to leave the floor wet?!

"It's okay, Y/N, you're okay," I told myself, before stretching and grabbing my phone from the side.

A striking pain shot up my leg and I suddenly felt nauseous, unable to deal with it. Swallowing hard, I called Teddy to give him a piece of my mind but also ask for his help since I couldn't move. Unfortunately for me, it went to fucking voicemail making me scream with frustration. I clenched my jaw as I tried to stand up myself, but more tears rolled down my cheeks as I accepted I was stuck.

The next person who came to mind was Wanda. If I was lucky and she wasn't at work, she'd be able to help me up and get me to a hospital.

I called her next and thankfully, unlike the arsehole that was my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, she answered.

"Hey, Y/N!"

I breathed out as calmly as I could. "Hi, Wanda. I, er, I need your help."

"Everything okay?" she asked with concern.

I nodded, though I felt really sick as I tried to avoid looking at my leg. "Yeah, well– no. This is really embarrassing, but I slipped on the bathroom floor and I think my leg is broken. Please can you come 'round and help me up?"

"Shit, Y/N, of course!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks," I got out breathily. "Spare key is taped under the plant pot outside my door."

"Just hold on," she insisted, before hanging up.

I dropped my phone to the side and glanced down at myself, definitely embarrassed that I was sat here in my underwear and bra, but also glad that I wasn't completely naked.

As promised, Wanda came as soon as possible and I heard her approaching the bathroom before she squeaked and covered her eyes.

"S-sorry!" she said, flustered. "I didn't mean to look. I just–"

"Wanda, you need to see if you're to help me up," I said as nicely as I could without snapping from the pent up anger reserved for Teddy.

She removed her hand, though her eyes wouldn't meet mine. "Right, yeah, duh. Okay, er..."

Successfully, she managed to lift me up and let me use her for support as we limped to my bed and I took a seat.

"Can you pass me my–"

"Clothes, right," she caught on, still not meeting my eyes, before moving around the room to grab a shirt and shorts.

I put my shirt on with ease, but she had to help me with my shorts as I tried my very hardest not to cry from the pain. My leg, or rather my knee, was turning a yellow-purple colour pretty quickly, making me flinch.

"How did this happen?" she asked with worry, gaze falling to my leg.

I clenched my jaw. "My stupid fucking boyfriend. I've told him so many fucking times to mop the damn floor! And he always says okay, but he never does! Oh, boy, when I get my hands on him, he's gonna wish he'd never been born!"

"Y/N–"

"And can you believe he has the audacity to have his damn phone switched off?! I could be dying and he wouldn't even know! That selfish, ignorant son of a–"

"Y/N!" she called, snapping me out of my rant. "Hospital."

"Right, hospital," I agreed. "No ambulances because they're way too expensive. Maybe you can get me down to a taxi and I'll take it from there?"

She raised her eyebrows with disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

I mirrored her expression. "Er, no? Ambulances are like $700, and even with my insurance that's like $400. Taxis are, what, twenty bucks?"

She wasn't convinced as she crossed her arms and stared at me with uncertainty. I sighed and tried to stand up, but I pulled a face at the pain. She was quick to help me stand, giving me support on my right side.

"This is gonna take a while," I mumbled, biting back annoyance.

"Don't hate me," she said suddenly.

I looked to her, furrowing my brows. "What are you talking about?"

She avoided my gaze and instead swept me off my feet quite literally, taking me by surprise. I wrapped my arms around her neck on instinct, eyes widening as she held me close, bridal-style.

"Wanda, you can't just carry me like this," I said, though I was surprised at how strong she was.

She ignored me and walked out the bedroom before stopping at the fire escape. I gripped her tightly, wondering what the heck was going on. There was a hint of red in her eyes, startling me, before I noticed the two of us rising into the air. Levitation, to be exact.

"Woah!" I shouted, holding her as tightly as I could. "What the hell?! How–?! What–?!"

As she flew us away from our building, there was a red hue floating all around us, like an energy I'd never seen before. Except it seemed familiar... and that's when I put it together.

"You're that Avenger!" I blurted out. "The witch, the one with all the magical powers! You're– you're– Oh my God."

She frowned, eyes darting to mine apologetically. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

I swallowed hard, fearfully glancing over her shoulder at the clouds interwoven with the tall buildings of New York. Never in a million years did I think I'd be flying amongst them, with an Avenger nonetheless. She'd fought at the battle of New York, I remembered seeing her on the TV. She was dubbed an official Avenger not long after, but then coverage of her went quiet... because she'd moved away. It made so much sense now!

"I knew I recognised you," I said with disbelief, studying her face closely as I now knew who she was.

Her eyes still had a red hue surrounding her irises, matching the energy surrounding us as she flew us to, presumably, the hospital.

"I didn't intend to hide it," she explained guiltily. "I thought you'd figure it out. But then you didn't and it... it just never felt right to bring it up."

I thought back to the random hours she worked, the spontaneity of being called in for her shifts, her whole backstory for crying out loud... how stupid could I be?

"This... this is a conversation we should have," I said, nodding slowly, "but maybe not right now."

"Right, yeah." She nodded in agreement, jaw tensed as she stared ahead. "Just hang on."

–

After getting an x-ray at the hospital, the doctor told me I'd need to go into surgery so they could realign my knee – it wasn't anything concerning, but I wasn't exactly over the moon about it.

I returned to the hospital room to find Wanda had been waiting for me. I'd say I was surprised, but I was more grateful that she stayed. We hadn't had a moment to speak about her whole Avenger situation, and she was oddly quiet about the whole thing, so I decided to ease it into conversation whilst waiting for the doctors to return to prep me for surgery.

"You know, you didn't have to stay," I said to her, watching as she distracted herself with the stuff on the bedside table. "It's only a broken leg."

She stopped whatever she was doing and gave me a knowing look. "It's not only a broken leg. And I just thought you might like the company. Who else is going to make sure you're okay?"

I offered her a small smile. "Thank you. But the surgery is gonna take a while. I'll head home after and catch up with you then."

She seemed against the idea, but said nothing, before resuming whatever she was messing around with. The tissue box, I think.

"So... magic, huh?"

She swallowed visibly. "It's, er, not magic... at least, not exactly."

I hummed in acknowledgement, still adjusting to the fact that she had actual powers. It was amazing and unusual all at once.

"It's okay that you didn't tell me you know," I said gently, making her glance at me. "You apologised earlier. Back when we were–" I breathed out, still in mild disbelief, "–well, flying. You didn't need to. You don't have to be sorry about anything, Wanda."

She frowned. "But I lied to you."

Her Sokovian accent was more noticeable when she was upset, I noted. I wondered if she realised.

"You didn't lie, per say... more like bent the truth," I tried to make her feel better, stifling a laugh. "Either way, it's alright. Well, for me anyway. I don't know if you wanted to tell me or–"

"I did," she cut in with nod, eyes focused on me. "I wanted to."

I hoped she couldn't hear the way my heart rate picked up a little. "Okay, then I don't see a problem. You're still the same Wanda, just with a little something extra, right?"

Her shoulders relaxed and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Right."

I mirrored her expression, holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, before tearing away when I heard the doctor enter the room. After prepping me for surgery, I headed off into the operating room and made sure Wanda knew she didn't have to be there when I came back.

They put me under, so I wasn't awake until several hours later when I woke up to horribly bright, fluorescent hospital lighting and the accompanying nasty disinfectant smell filling the room. The first thing I noticed was the giant cast on my leg, followed by the sleeping brunette in the corner of the room that was Wanda. I would have questioned why she was there as my first thought, but I couldn't help but take notice of the lovely room I was in – for starters, it wasn't shared with other patients like I expected.

"Wanda," I called, my voice rough-sounding, but she didn't stir in the slightest.

I chewed on my lip as I found the remote that controlled my bed, using it so I could sit up. I was able to grab the water on my bedside table and take a few sips before calling for her again, sounding a lot better. To my relief, she began to wake up, eyes blinking open and looking around with confusion before realisation crossed her face and she settled on me.

"You're up!" she exclaimed, before a yawn escaped her lips.

"And you're here," I returned, hinting my confusion.

"I told you I was staying," she reminded me, before standing up and approaching my bedside. "Had to make sure you were okay. And obviously to help you home. By taxi, not flying, don't worry."

I smiled at her caring nature, expression softening at how cute she was.

"Also, before you ask," she added, "your hospital bills are taken care of. Hence the room."

I lost my smile, eyebrows raising. "Come again?"

She sat at the edge of my bed, getting comfortable as she looked out the window opposite us. "I didn't want you worrying about it, especially when none of this was your fault, so I called in a favour at the Avenger's compound. Tony owed me."

I almost forgot how to breathe as my eyes widened. "Tony Stark? The Tony Stark? He's paying for my hospital bills?"

She looked to me, a hint of panic in her eyes. "I hope that's okay. I mean, I knew you would say no, but I feel like I should've done something. You've done so much for me and it was only fair."

"I can't believe..." I trailed off, losing track of what I was going to say, still shocked. It made sense with her being an Avenger, but it was still hard to believe.

"You still with me?" she joked, her hand resting on mine.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the warmth from her skin touching mine. "Yeah, sorry. I just– wow. Still digesting is all."

"Don't worry too much about it," she said gently.

I nodded weakly, swallowing hard and avoiding her gaze.

"I should go get the doctor and let her know you're awake," she said, letting go of my hand. "You okay on your own for a minute?"

"Yeah, of course. Thanks."

After a chat with the doctor and an explanation of how everything would play out from here, I was getting ready to leave for home. I got changed out of the annoying hospital gown in the bathroom attached to my hospital room (another perk of Tony Stark paying for my bills – no shared toilet) and was in the middle of adjusting to my crutches in my room when there was a knock on the door.

Wanda and I paused as we looked up, and I was about to say for whoever it was to come in, but the person came in quickly and without waiting. To my bitterness, it was Teddy of all people.

"Oh my god, Y/N, there you are!" he exclaimed upon seeing me. "I got your message, both of them. I was so worried!"

In addition to the message I'd left him when breaking my leg, I also left him another before the surgery to see if he actually cared enough to check in. Clearly not.

I gripped my crutches to get out my frustration. "It took you long enough. I went into surgery five hours ago."

He scratched his head awkwardly. "I was at work."

I rolled my eyes, promising myself I wouldn't snap, but the annoyance of everything happening was building up and I couldn't help but blurt out, "I told you to mop up when you freakin' showered, Teddy!"

"I did!"

"No, you didn't!" I shouted, raising my voice. "If you did, I wouldn't be in this fucking cast!"'

He winced. "Are you, er, sure that it was the water that you slipped on?"

I clenched my jaw, knuckles turning white from how hard I was gripping my crutches. I didn't care that I was temporarily crippled, all I could see was red.

"Am I sure?" I repeated his question, tone laced with anger. "Am I sure?!"

I attempted to lunge forward, but Wanda seemed to know what I was thinking before I did it, holding me back suddenly.

"Y/N, just leave it," she mumbled, eyes meeting mine.

Something about the way she looked at me made my anger temporarily melt away, and I almost forgot why I was mad, until...

"Who are you?" Teddy asked with confusion.

Wanda and I looked to him, figuring he was just being his usual rude self, but he genuinely had no idea who she was as he studied her curiously.

She blinked with disbelief. "Wanda....?"

He waved his hand, motioning for her to say more.

Wanda raised a brow with offence. "Y/N's neighbour...?"

He pursed his lips, eyes squinted with thought.

Wanda almost scoffed. "Really? You got nothing?"

He chewed on his lip, genuinely stumped, and I couldn't help but groan with frustration, earning his attention.

"Of course you don't know who she is!" I glared at him. "You don't listen to a word I say! Not about this, not about mopping the floor–!"

"Y/N, just calm down!" he cut me off, only adding fuel to the fire.

"No," I said sternly, before nodding to the door behind him. "You can leave. You have no need to be here since we're not together anymore."

He raised his eyebrows with shock. "Seriously? You're breaking up with me? For what?"

I breathed out through my nose, genuinely stunned at how I managed to stay with him this long without either losing my mind or killing him. I could swear he wasn't this stupid when I met him.

His eyes fell to Wanda with distaste. "Is it because of her?"

"Did you actually manage to get stupider since this morning?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Because I totally accepted when you said you were bisexual," he continued, "but I didn't think you'd actually leave me for a woman."

I pressed my lips together, looking to my shoes as I tried to talk myself out of not killing him there and then. The fact that he was blaming the breakup on anyone but himself was disappointing but not surprising.

"Can you leave now?" I finally spoke, looking up to him with expressionless eyes.

His smile of disbelief turned into a scoff as he headed for the door. "Whatever. Your roast lamb is shit anyway."

I scrunched my face together with annoyance, unable to stop myself from yelling, "No it isn't!" as he walked out the door.

Unexpectedly, I saw the familiar red wisps of energy by the door before it suddenly slammed shut, smacking Teddy in the butt and propelling him forward with a start. He turned around to look through the glass, expecting to blame someone, but Wanda and I were nowhere near the door, so he glared our way before storming off.

"Sorry," Wanda said, referring to the door, lowering her hand and red eyes returning to normal. "He's just a real dickhead."

I tried not to laugh as I nodded in agreement, already feeling better. "You're not wrong there..." I sighed, losing my smile as I gave her an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry for everything he said. Again."

Wanda rolled her eyes dismissively, shrugging her shoulders. "You should really stop apologising on his behalf. Especially since he's not your boyfriend anymore."

I relaxed my shoulders, leaning against the bed and looking to the floor. "Yeah, you're right... I just can't believe I put up with him this long."

Wanda didn't respond, but I heard her make a weird noise before she fake-coughed terribly, making me look up. Trying ever-so-hard to suppress a smile, she shook her head apologetically when she realised I noticed.

"Sorry, I– it's not funny," she attempted.

I smiled with amusement. "What?"

She licked her lips, before giving into her smile. "I just– I can't believe it either sometimes."

I breathed out with defeat, my smile turning into laughter alongside her. Eventually, she continued to help me with my crutches before I got the hang of it and the two of us began to leave the hospital. On the way out though, a random thought dawned on me and I stopped walking suddenly.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly.

I looked to her with curiosity. "That guy who stopped by your place a while ago. Your friend. Are you telling me that was–"

"Captain America?" she filled in with an amused smile. "Yeah."

"Woah." I was amazed, eyebrows raised as I let that sink in. I spoke to the Captain America and even implied he was a stalker. Woah.

"Come on, idiot," she laughed before leading me out the hospital, finally.

–

Breaking up with Teddy was long overdue, and whereas I thought I would feel bad for doing so, it was quite the opposite. I felt better, freer, unrestrained by the stupidity that was my ex. It was a few days after leaving the hospital when I found myself sitting on the couch with Wanda. She'd been helping me during my recovery, even though I insisted I was fine alone. She, of course, didn't listen though, and I was secretly glad because it meant I could spend more time with her.

"What about that fork? Can you move that?"

Wanda gave me a knowing look from the other end of the couch, amusement knitted in her smile. "Yes, Y/N."

To prove her point, her eyes glowed red and she flicked her hand, raising the fork on the dining table up in the air before setting it down.

I was amazed. "What about that cushion?"

She stifled a laugh before levitating the cushion between us and setting it down.

"And that book?"

"I have other powers, too, y'know," she pointed out, but levitated the book nonetheless.

I grinned. "Yeah, like flying."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like that..."

And this.

"Woah!" I said with a start, eyebrows raised with surprise. "Did you just– what?!"

She laughed, the sound sending a swirl of butterflies in my stomach. Her eyes sparkled as she met my gaze, amused by my amazement.

"You can speak in my mind?" I asked in bewilderment.

"I can read minds, too," she continued.

"Wow." I breathed out, still not used to her having powers. Suddenly a thought came to mind and I glanced at her. "Have you, er, read my mind?"

"Never," she assured me, before adding with a head tilt, "at least not on purpose. Sometimes, if somebody's thoughts are too loud, I can't help but hear it."

I felt my face heating up as I avoided her eyes. "But my thoughts are quiet... right?"

Every potentially-embarrassing thought I'd ever had, including those I'd had of Wanda, came to mind and I suddenly grew nervous to her answer.

"Er, well, I mean..."

I looked to her when I heard her forming an answer, but the look on her face told me she had heard my thoughts at times and I ran a hand down my face with embarrassment.

"I promise it's never anything embarrassing or anything," she tried to make me feel better.

I groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Hey, I promise," she said with reassurance, before I felt her rest a hand on mine and squeeze it gently.

"What was the last thing you heard?" I asked, trying to veil my curiosity with a shrug.

I felt her gaze on me and looked her way to see green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Mostly you cursing at your ex."

Cracking a smile, I nodded. "Okay, maybe that's fine then..."

Her laughter surrounded us again and she let go of my hand before pulling her legs up on the couch to get comfortable and face me. She watched me with an endearing smile, making me unusually nervous.

"So, what other things can you do with your powers?" I asked, partially curious and partially trying to distract from my nerves.

She studied her right hand, red energy wisps at the tip of her fingers. "I can... I can throw energy balls," she remembered, looking to me before smiling, "but I won't demonstrate that since I'm sure you love your curtains."

"That I do," I said in agreement, leaning on the back cushion with my elbow as I faced her better.

"I can also manipulate thoughts, but once again, I'm sure you won't want a demonstration." She chuckled as she saw my change of expression.

"Yeah, no thank you," I said jokingly.

She pressed her lips together, thinking of what else she could do, but her smile faded into a thin line as a dark thought seemed to cross her mind.

"My brother had powers, too," she said quietly. "Super speed."

Since finding out who she was, I tried to piece together Wanda's background without bringing it up to her for fear it would upset her. It made a lot more sense why she'd moved next door now that I knew who she was, but she hadn't once brought up her family again until, well, until now.

"Pietro," I said, hoping I'd got his name correct. "Right?"

She nodded, lowering her hand and looking to me. "Yeah, that's him... he also had powers. It was actually what got him killed." She barely flinched as she spoke. "He saved someone's life in the battle against Ultron."

I sensed her sadness when her gaze softened as she finished speaking, and my heart ached now that I knew the truth.

"You don't have to tell me, Wanda," I said gently, hoping she didn't feel obligated to.

"No, no...," she shook her head, "it's nice to finally be able to tell you the truth. The whole truth. Not some rendition of it."

I nodded, relaxing under her stare. I was glad, too, to know she trusted me with such sensitive information about her life. It made me feel important, kind of like confirmation that I meant as much to her as she did to me.

"Do you think you're gonna go back to the Avengers tower anytime soon?" I asked. "I know you mentioned living here was temporary, so..."

It was selfish of me to think, but I hoped the answer was no. She hadn't said, but I gathered she hadn't been fulfilling her role as an Avenger as much as she should have been, as she was still on a break from there since grieving for her brother. But she seemed better than she did when she first got here, and if that meant she was going to go back there... I hoped it didn't, selfishly enough. I know the world needed another hero, but, I mean, did they?

"Trying to get rid of me already?" she teased, quirking a brow, making me smile with embarrassment. She noticed and added, "I'm kidding, Y/N. But to answer your question, no, not yet. Maybe not ever. I thought I would be here to get away from them whilst I grieved, but I've come to like it here. It's become my new home. I can still help them and not stay there."

I tried to resist the urge to smile like a weirdo. "Oh, cool. Yeah, I get you."

Calm on the outside, but over the moon on the inside.

"Though I may have to reconsider if my neighbour keeps using me like a carnival attraction," she added playfully.

I laughed, putting my hair behind my ear as I shrugged. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. It's just so cool that you have powers!" She laughed quietly, making my smile widen. I continued without thinking, "Plus, your eyes go this pretty red colour whenever you use them and I just think that's pretty neat."

She rolled her eyes playfully, but I was surprised to see her cheeks turn the colour of said powers. God, she was stunning. I was sure I'd always known that, but maybe I'd never acknowledged the thought. Now though... she was adorable when she bit back a smile and her hazel eyes sparkled with distraction.

Suddenly remembering the beautiful girl before me had the ability to read minds, I cleared my throat and tried to debate whether or not that would be classed as a 'loud' thought. I'd liked to think it wasn't, but now I wasn't so sure... what if this was a loud thought? And she could actually hear everything I was saying about her in my head? Oh, no... I was definitely overthinking this. It was nothing to worry about.

"You okay over there? I can practically read your mind."

I looked up and saw she was teasing again, though now that I knew she had powers, those words carried a double meaning.

"Yeah, yeah, sure you can," I played along dismissively. "Nice try, Wanda."

She shrugged, laughter slipping from her lips. "Okay, whatever you say."

Nah, she was definitely playing me... right?

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